#L1BRARY OF CONGRESS.! 



{ ^/^/e. BV.1.16? I 



.=W.ef ,..b..O. 



f UNiVeD states of AMERICA, f 



^ 



OUR 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



EDITED BY THE AUTHOR OP 

"THE AIMWELL stORIES," ETC. 



' Soon, soon, thy little feet have trod 
The skyward path, the seraph's road, 
That led thee back from man to God." 



■y. 



^i"' ' BOSTON: 

aOULD AND LINCOLN, 

59 V7As^TXGT0^r St R set, 

]5rEW YORK: SHELDON, BLAKEIMAN & CO. 

CINCINNATI : GEORGE S. BLANCHARD. 

1858. 



-^ 



i^^ 



d1 



.S^" 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 

GOULD AND LINCOLN, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of jMassa- 

chusetts. 



ELECTROTYPED BY 

W. F. DRAPEE,, ANDOVER, MASS. 

PRINTED BT 

GEO. C. BAND Sc AVERY, BOSTON. 



PREFACE 



The death of young children is one of the most 
common afflictions that befall the human family. 
According to a recent medical authority, twenty-two 
per cent, of our race die before they are one year 
old ; thirty-seven per cent, before they are five years 
old ; and nine-twentieths of the whole number born, 
die before reaching their fifteenth year. 

But familiar as this form of bereavement is, the 
loss of a child in its early years is ordinarily one of 
the most sorrowful calamities that can overtake those 
whom God has permitted to enter into the parental 
relation. There is a peculiar poignancy in such a 
grief, as there certainly is a peculiar sadness in such 
a visitation of death. To see budding loveliness, 
with all its artless ways and its treasures of unfolded 
hopes, nipt in a night by the frosty touch of the des- 
troyer — to witness the death-agonies of helpless, 
confiding, mutely-appealing innocence, without the 
power of relief — to commit to the dust in its feeble 
infancy the child upon whose strong arm and loving 
heart you had hoped to lean in the days of your own 
weakness and decay — this is more than a sad rever- 
sal of the order of nature ; it is, to the sensitive and 
affectionate heart, one of the sharpest pangs it is 
capable of enduring. 

And yet it must be added that there are also many 
peculiar sources of consolation opened to those who 



IV PREFACE. 

are weeping over empty cradles and tenantless little 
beds. These little missed ones — 0, how they are 
missed ! — are, we believe, chosen lambs, gathered 
into the fold of the Good Shepherd ; beauteous buds, 
and sweet, half-opened blossoms, transplanted from 
our chilling atmosphere into 

" those everlasting gardens, 
"Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens ; " 

precious family jewels, rescued from a mean casket 
and an unsafe custody, and set as living stars in a 
crown of immortal beauty; glimmering germs of 
unschooled intelligence, expanded in a day by a 
heavenly magic into angel profundity, and perchance 
transformed into ministering spirits, to watch over 
the weary steps of their earthly guides, and to teach 
those who were once their teachers : — 

" How changed, dear friend, are thy part and thy child's! 
He bends over thy cradle now, or holds 
His warning finger out to be thy guide ; 
Thou art the nursling now." 

It is to minister such tender consolations as these 
to parents of children " passed into the skies," that 
the following collection of thoughts, suggested by 
the death of the young, has been made. May the 
soothing words of sympathy, the sweet and precious 
consolations, and the wise and gentle counsels, which 
are scattered over these pages, distil like heavenly 
dew upon many a bleeding heart, and help to allay 
those griefs with which the stranger may not inter- 
meddle. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

WHY WE BELIEVE IN IlfFANT SALVATION, \ . 10 

THE REAPER, 29 

THE WANDERER RECLAIMED, .... 30 

DEATH OP THE FIRST BORN, 31 

THE DEATH OF DAVID'S CHILD, .... 33 

A SHORT LIFE MAY BE A PERFECT ONE, . , 34 

THE MOTHER'S SACRIFICE, 35 

TWO ON EARTH AND TWO IN HEAVEN, ... 36 

THE MEETING, 37 

THE LOSS OP A LITTLE CHILD, . , . . .38 

A BEREAVED FATHER'S ASSURANCE, ... 39 

BEREAVEMENT, .40 

BABY'S SHOES, 41 

AVE ARE SEVEN, 42 

ON THE DEATH OP AN INFANT, .... 45 
THE CRUSHED BUD, . . . . . . .46 

THE GATHERED BUD, 46 

SENTENCES FROM THE SCRIPTURES, ... 47 

MIDNIGHT, 49 

MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH? 50 

LOVE, 51 

EVA, * 52 

HEAVEN, 53 

SEVEN YEARS IN HEAVEN, 54 

THE MOURNING MOTHER, 58 

ON THE DEATH OP A SON, 59 

THE LITTLE COFFIN, 60 

THE LILY, 61 

THE INFANT HOST IN HEAVEN, .... 62 

THE STONE ROLLED FROM THE TOMB, . . . 64 

LITTLE MARY, . . . ' 65 

AGAINST EXCESSIVE GRIEF, 67 

GOD GRACIOUS IN HIS JUDGMENTS, ... 72 

THE TWINS, 73 

THE BITTER CUP DECLINED, . . . . 73 



Vi CONTENTS. 

Page. 

I SEE TKEE STTLIi, 74 

OlS' THE DEATH OF AN ITinPAIfT, .... 75 

TO A MOTHER ON LOSING AN INFANT DAUGHTER, 76 

THE THIRD SON, ....... 77 

THE YOUNGEST, 78 

OUR WEE WHITE ROSE, 79 

THE HAPPY BAND, 81 

COMFORT, 82 

EEAVE THE RESULT WITH GOD, . ... 83 

RESIGNATION, 85 

YES, AS A CHILD, 87 

TAKEN FROM THE LIFE TO COME, ... 89 

THE LITTLE ONE IS DEAD, 90 

AN EPITAPH FOR AN INFANT, .... 90 

A CHILD IN HEAVEN, 91 

WHY^ CHILDREN DIE, 92 

THE DYING CHILD, 93 

THE PLAYTHINGS, 94 

THE THREE LITTLE GRAVES, 95 

OUR LAMBS, 96 

THE SERAPH CHILD, 97 

EPITAPH, 98 

OUR BABY, 99 

ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND'S CHILD, . . 100 

TO A CHRISTIAN FATHER, 104 

TO A CHRISTIAN 3IOTHER, 105 

REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD, .... 106 

THE DEAD CHILD, 107 

NOT IN VAIN, 107 

THE LOST LAMB, 108 

THE FIRST-BORN, 109 

THINK THAT Y'OUR BABE IS THERE, . . .111 

"I SHALL GO TO HIM, BUT HE SHALL NOT RETURN 

TO ME," Ill 

THOUGHT AT A CHILD'S GRAVE, .... 112 

THE ONLY CHILD, 112 

SOWING IN TEARS, 113 

DEATH AND THE MOTHER, 115 

THE INFANT'S GRAVE, 116 

TWO IN HEAVEN, 117 

THE EMPTY CRADLE, . . . . » . . 118 

BEREAVEMENT, 119 

THE LAST SMILE, 120 

LITTLE GRAVES, 120 

SAFE FOR EVERMORE, 121 

MY CHILD, 122 

THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER, . . . .124 



CONTENTS. Vll 

Page. 
MARTIN LUTHER AND HIS DYING DAUGHTER, . 125 

DIRGE OF A CHILD, 129 

THE LENT JEWELS, 131 

AN INFANT'S EPITAPH, 132 

O MOURN NOT, POND 3IOTHER, .... 133 

THE TENANTLESS LITTLE BED, 134 

HE SLEPT, 134 

TO AN INFANT IN HEAVEN, ..... 135 

EPITAPH ON FOUR INFANTS, 136 

CHILDREN TAKEN IN MERCY, ..... 137 

AN INFANT'S DEATH, 138 

LOVE STRONG IN DEATH, 139 

WEEP NOT FOR HER, 141 

TO A DEAD CHILD, 141 

THE LOST JEWEL, 142 

THE RECEPTION OF TRIALS, . . . , . 142 

THE DYING CHILD TO ITS MOTHER, . . . 143 

THE TRUE CONSOLER, 144 

THE LAMB WITHOUT 145 

DEATH OF THE YOUNG 147 

GOD SHIELD THEE, CHILDLESS MOTHER, . . 148 

THE LOST DARLING, 149 

"lent — NOT GIVEN,^' 150 

LITTLE CHARLIE 151 

DEATH WITHOUT ITS STING^ 153 

HOUSEHOLD DIRGE, . 154 

LINKS IN THE HEAVENLY CHAIN, .... 156 
THE MINISTERING ANGEL, ...... 157 

THE OPEN WINDOW, 158 

CHILDREN ENTERING HEAVEN, 159 

ON SEEING AN INFANT PREPARED FOR THE GRAVE, 160 
THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED, .... 101 

KITTIE IS GONE 164 

MINISTERING SPIRITS, 166 

THE WINTER BURIAL, 167 

A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON, 168 
THE INFANT SPIRIT'S PRAYER, .... 169 

A MEMORY, 171 

THE CROCUS, 172 

A DIRGE, 173 

TO A BEREAVED FATHER, 174 

THE DEATH LULLABY, ...... 175 

THE ALPINE SHEEP, 176 

THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER, 178 

THE SPHERE OF CHILDREN IN HEAVEN, . . 180 

THE CHILD-ANGEL, 181 

BABIE BELL, 182 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

Page. 

THE BOY'S LAST WORDS, 186 

THE DEATH AjS^D BURIAL, 187 

BABY 'S DEAD, . 192 

THEN AISTD Is^OW, 193 

THE DYI]N^G BOY, . * 194 

THE OTHER SIDE, 197 

THE GIFT, 197 

LITTLE HERBERT, . . . . . . . 198 

CO]>fSOLATIOiS- AT THE GRAVE, 200 

LOVE BLESSED, EVEN IN ITS LOSSES. , . . 200 

LITTLE CHARLIE, 201 

THE DROWNED CHILD, 203 

THE PEARL AND THE SHELL, 204 

THE MOTHER'S DREAM, 205 

I SEE THEM THERE, 208 

THRENODIA, 209 

GOD KNOAVS WHAT IS BEST EOR ITS, . . . 213 

TO A DEPARTED CHILD, 215 

EPITAPH FROM AN IRISH COUNTRY CHURCHYARD, 217 
LITTLE CHILDREN KNOCKING AT THE GATE OF 

HEAVEN, 218 

SUBMISSION, 220 

THE LOSS OF A CHILD, . . . . . . 221 

OUR BESSIE, 224 

GRIEF, 225 

CASA WAPPY, , . 226 

TO MY CHILD, 232 

BEYOND THE RIVER, 233 

DEW, 234 

MY CHILD, 235 

THE LITTLE BOY'S BURIAL, 236 

CAN I WISH HIM BACK AGAIN ? . . . , 238 

THE FIRST TENANT, 238 

DEAD LITTLE ONES, 239 

DEATH'S GENTLEST STROKE, 240 

THE CHANGELING, 241 

NO BITTER TEARS FOR THEE, 243 

WORDS OF COMFORT, 244 

DUTY IN SEASONS OP AFFLICTION, . . • . 245 

SORROW, .....,,,, 245 

A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT, • 246 

A FATHER'S GRIEF, 246 

OUR LITTLE SPOT OF LAND, 247 



O UR 



LITTLE ONES U HEAYEN. 



®te tof '§dkk m Infant Saltotmn.* 

At the outset, it must be admitted that the 
teachings of the Bible, in regard to the condition 
of those who die in infancy, are dim and uncer- 
tain. For wise ends, we doubt not, God has 
seen fit to give us no clear and direct revelation 
on this point, but has left us to settle the ques- 
tion by the slow and laborious process of infer- 
ence and reason. Nor shall we be surprised at 

* The following article, which is intended to give a 
general view of the grounds on which the Protestant 
Church has come to a common and united belief in the 
salvation of those who die in infancy, is compiled mainly 
from a sermon by Rev. Dr. Gumming, of London. The 
argument is an abridgment of the views of Rev. Dr. Rus- 
sell, of Dundee, who, in 1828, published an "Essay on 
the Salvation of all Dying in Infancy," which is said 
to be one of the most full and satisfactory -works ever 
written on this subject. 



10 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

tMs, when we consider tliat the word of God is 
addressed only to intelligent and accountable 
beings — that it is eminently a practical book — 
and that infants, dying such, come not under its 
proclamation of duty, are not affected by its 
overtures of mercy, and therefore may not claim 
any special interest in its revelations. And yet 
it is universally admitted that so far as the 
Scriptures do cast any light upon this subject, it 
is the light of encouragement and hope. 

The Argnment from Infant Eesnrrection. 

It will be admitted by all, that the bodies of 
infants will be raised at the resurrection morn. 
The language of Scripture is explicit — "I saw 
the dead, small and great," (that is, infants and 
adults) " stand before God ; " " and the sea gave 
up the dead which were in it, and death and 
hell delivered up the dead which were in them ; '* 
and " ALL that are in the graves shall hear the 
voice of the Son of Man, and shall come forth." 
We must include in this mighty assemblage 
numbers of infants as well as adults. To this 
the apostle seems to allude, when he says, every 
one shall be raised " in his own order." The 
literal translation is, '' in his own class ; " infants 
in their class, adults in their class, males in their 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 11 

class, females in their class — " every one in his 
own order." 

Now, if the bodies of infants are to be raised, 
we may fairly inquire, what can be the purpose 
of thus raising their sleeping dust from its rest- 
ing-places, and reuniting each infant soul to its 
body ? It cannot be to be judged ; for the 
judgment proceeds according to icorks done in 
the body, and infants have done no works. In 
every record of the judgment morn, the state- 
ment is, that it proceeds, not according to the 
merit of works (far from that), but according 
to works as the manifestation of a principle of 
grace within. Infants, having had neither the 
opportunity nor the physical power of manifest- 
ing character by conduct, cannot be raised to 
be judged, as they are not just subjects of the 
judgment ordeal. 

In the next place, infants cannot be raised to 
be condemned to everlasting punishment. ^\Tiy ? 
Because this is not a part of the original curse 
that was pronounced upon Adam. The curse 
pronounced upon Adam was, " Thou shalt 
surely die : " that is, the soul shall die, and the 
body shall die ; and when the one is severed 
from the other, the penalty is exhausted. The 
punishment apportioned to them that have 
either rejected the overtures of the glorious 



12 LITTLE ONES TN HEAVEN. 

gospel, or stained their souls with sin and their 
hands with wickedness, can never be due to 
infants. They can be the subjects of the primi- 
tive curse only. But to raise their bodies again, 
and to reunite them to their souls in order to 
suffer, would be unjust, because it would be 
apportioning greater punishment than the origi- 
nal sentence contained. It would be the inflic- 
tion of a doom severer than God pronounced in 
Paradise. God's truth never errs, in excess or 
shortcoming. Therefore, when infants are raised 
from the dead, they are raised not to he judged^ 
for there are no works, according to which they 
can be judged; they are raised not to suffer j 
because this would be unjust, and exceeding the 
original sentence. What must, then, be the 
end ? They are raised in order to be admitted 
into glory ; that, reclothed with more glorious 
apparel than Adam lost, they may take their 
place In the midst of those, who have *' washed 
their robes and made them white In the blood 
of the Lamb." 

But this presumption amounts almost to cer- 
tainty. If we bear In mind, that If Infants' bodies 
are raised from the dead, then Is there In this 
fact the actual removal of half the primeval 
curse ; for Its penalty was the death of soul and 
body, both. Now if we find it to be the fact 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 13 

that the body is raised, which is the removal of 
half the curse, may we not, in full harmony with 
the presumptions of reason, and above all in full 
coincidence with the merciful genius of the gos- 
pel, infer that the other half of the curse is 
remitted also — that the soul and body shall be 
reunited, both to<Tether to inherit everlastin<j: 
happiness ? 

We are also to connect with this fact the 
truth, that this resurrection of their bodies is 
the fruit of the atonement and resurrection of 
Christ — because if Christ had not died and 
risen again, there had been no resurrection ; the 
very resurrection of the body is the result of the 
atonement of Christ, and in that sense, it ex- 
tends to every man. Now if infants' bodies are 
raised from the dead, and this only through 
Christ's resurrection, and as the result of His 
perfect atonement, and if thus half the curse is 
remitted by the efficacy of the Saviour's blood, 
and by the virtues of His resurrection from the 
dead, may we not infer that the other half will 
be remitted also, and that soul and body will 
live and rejoice together in the presence of the 
Lord forever V 



14 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



Infants Guiltless of the Great Condemning Sin. 

With respect to those who are born amid the 
means of grace and opportunities of mercy, 
there is one only cause given in the gospel for 
their condemnation, namely, their wilful rejec- 
tion of the gospel. " This is the condemnation, 
that light is come into the world, and men love 
darkness rather than light, because their deeds 
are evil." " He that belie veth not the Son shall 
not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on 
him." If, then, this be the great condemning 
sin, which consigns sinners to misery, it is clear 
that infants never committed that sin, because 
physically and morally incapable of it; and 
therefore infants, having not committed the only 
condemning sin, cannot and will not be ranked 
amid the condemned hereafter. 

They will not be Judged hy the law. 

Nor will it alter the conclusion if it be alleged 
that infants will be tried by the standard accord- 
ing to which the destinies of the heathen, who 
never heard the gospel, will be decided. The 
great apostle of the Gentiles says, " When the 
Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature 
the things contained in the law, these, having 



LITTLE OXE3 IX HEAVEX. 15 

not the law, are a law unto themselves, their 
thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excus- 
ing one another." We have only to weigh the 
import of this phraseology to see its total inap- 
plicability to infants. They can be accused 
neither of rejecting the gospel nor of violating 
the law. If grace cannot save them, which is 
not the case, we may be sure that works cannot 
condemn them. 

God will not be less llercifiil to Infants than to the Heathen. 

If the heathen, who are '' without the knowl- 
edge of the law, shall be judged without the 
law," or on principles diiferent from those ap- 
plied to such as "enjoy the law ; " surely infants, 
who die previous to their possible knowledge of 
the gospel, shall not have its application to them 
measured by the rules of personal accountabil- 
ity. Having never •' sinned after the similitude 
of Adam's transgression,^' they will not be saved 
after the similitude of those of Adam's full-grown 
posterity, who have thus sinned. All objections 
to this conclusion arising from the incapacity' of 
infants for salvation, are entirely presumptuous, 
since Christ has assured us that '• of such," even 
infants in the arms, " is the kingdom of heaven." 
Now, as God is no respecter of persons, and as 



16 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

all cMldren are Ms moral offspring, and all are 
equally guilty, and equally incapable, by any 
possibility, of seeking deliverance from sin, we 
must conclude that all children, dying in in- 
fancy, are saved with an everlasting salvation, 
through the abounding grace of Christ Jesus, 
our Lord. 

Infants Seemingly IncapaMe of being lost. 

Every picture we have of the place of misery 
implies, I think, that infants are incapable of 
being lost. This is a strong assertion, but it is a 
perfectly correct one. What is the Scripture 
picture of hell ? It is men who have " sown to 
the flesh," " reaping corruption ; " it is men who 
have sown iniquity, reaping punishment. It is 
" the worm that never dieth" — an accusing con- 
science — the fell agony of ceaseless remorse — 
the remembrance of rejected grace, of abused 
mercies, of rebellion against God, and of 
wrestling against conscience. These constitute 
" the worm that dieth not ;" these make up and 
feed the flame of that ''' fire that is not quenched." 
But an infant is totally incapable of those poign- 
ant suflerings — those stings and agonies of 
remorse — because an infant never committed a 
single transgression. And therefore, as these 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 17 

feelings of remorse are tlie main elements of 
hell, and as infants are by their very nature 
destitute of hell's chief element, they are inca- 
pable of suffering hell's dread punishment, so 
far, at least, as the nature of that punishment 
can be ascertained from the pages of the in- 
spired volume. 

They may be Saved without Faith. 

It may be objected here, that throughout the 
Scriptures, salvation is invariably tied to faith. 
Unquestionably it is so ; but it is of necessity 
with reference to those only who are capable of 
exercising faith. To require faith in infants, is 
to require a physical impossibility, and if faith, 
the instrument of salvation, is the free gift of 
God in the case of every adult, we may fairly 
presume that in the case of infants, where there 
is no ability to appreciate its nature or its ob- 
ject, God will bestow the end without it, and 
implant the principle of a living and everlasting 
faith. He can work with, or without, or against, 
means, when his own high purposes demand it. 



2* 



18 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 

God's Trinmpli oyer Satan seems to Imply the Salvatioii of 



It would appear tliat one leading object con- 
templated by our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ, is the destruction and depression of 
Satan, and that, too, by a demonstration that 
not one particle of his malignant policy and 
prospects has been, or will be, secured. 

Now it does seem, if infants are not univer- 
sally saved, that Satan hath got nearly as much 
as he hoped to achieve of triumph over God. 
It is evident that Satan's policy, when he 
seduced Adam and Eve, was meant, either, on 
the one hand, to force God to destroy this world, 
in which His smiles gave beauty to every blos- 
som, and His breath gave fragrance to every 
flower, and all of which He himself had pro- 
nounced to be " very good ; " or, on the other 
hand, to lead God to pronounce one universal 
and indiscriminate amnesty upon every creature 
that had transgressed, — thereby unhinging His 
moral government, conniving at crime, and 
compromising the claims of holiness and truth. 
These were the two extremes, either of which 
Satan made sure of achieving ; but the atone- 
ment is the unexpected solution of the difficulty, 
— the great cause of the lesson being inscribed 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 19 

m heaven, and legible on earth at the moment 
that the chiefest of sinners are saved — "The 
Tvages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eter- 
nal life." But if infants are lost, they are lost 
because of their connection ^ith the first Adam, 
and therefore in that respect Satan has tri- 
umphed ; nay, if this be true, half the human 
race, by Satan's policy, and without their per- 
sonal guilt, are lost. 

Infants, however, are not lost. TTe know that 
none shall perish, but those that reject the cure ; 
none shall inherit the serpent's curse, except 
those that imbibe the serpent's spirit. And on 
the other hand, those who are saved, it is de- 
clared expressly, in Scripture, are saved only 
thi'ough the mediation of Jesus, by reason of the 
transcendent goodness that gave Christ to die 
for the sins of mankind, and therefore by a way 
of salvation which does not tarnish the glory of 
God. Neither shall man be lost, nor the world 
destroyed, nor God dishonored, by the policy 
of Satan. The reverse shall be the triumphant 
issue. We justly infer that the sum total of this 
dispensation will be, that not one soul shall be 
lost because of Satan's success in Paradise, but 
that, on the contrary, his apparent triumph shall 
be overruled by Infinite Wisdom to be the 
means of bringing many sons to a greater hap- 



20 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

piness, and of giving greater glory to God. 
They that perish, perish by their rejection of 
life, not by their inheritance of Adam's sin. 

An Inspired Intimation of Infant Salvation. 

In the eighth Psalm we have an express scrip- 
tural proof of the salvation of infants, and an 
unequivocal intimation that amid the multitudes 
that shall grace the triumphs of the Son of God, 
infants will not be wanting : " O Lord, our Lord, 
how excellent is Thy name in all the earth ! who 
hast set Thy glory above the heavens. Out of 
the mouth of babes and sucklings hast Thou 
ordained strength, because of Thine enemies, 
that Thou mightest still the enemy and the 
avenger." Now the apostle Paul, in reasoning 
upon this very Psalm in his epistle to the He- 
brews, quotes it as descriptive of Christ in the 
days of His final triumph. It is in the second 
chapter. " But one in a certain place testified, 
saying, What is man, that Thou art mindful of 
him ? or the son of man, that Thou visitest him ? 
Thou madest him a little lower than the angels ; 
Thou crownedst him wdth glory and honor, and 
didst set him over the works of Thy hands; 
Thou hast put all things in subjection under his 
feet. For in that He put all in subjection 



LITTLE OIS^ES IN HEAYEN. 21 

under him, He left nothing that is not put 
under him. But now we see not yet all things 
put under him. But we see Jesus, who was 
made a httle lower than the angels for the suf- 
fering of death, crowned with glory and honor ; 
that he by the grace of God should taste death 
for every man." The sacred penman states 
that the Psalm refers to that period when Christ 
shall reign from sea to sea — all rebellious ele- 
ments being laid prostrate, and creation clothed 
afresh with hoUness, and beauty, and bliss. 
Amid the anthem-peal of praise that rises up 
to Him from the redeemed earth, the psalmist 
hears the songs of infants as no weak tone in 
the rich diapason, as ascriptions to the Lamb 
"out of the mouth of babes and sucklings." 
Yes, the beautiful truth stands forth in ail its 
lustre, deep and consolatory, that the sweetest 
hymns which shall be heard in the millennial 
era, will be infant hymns ; that amid the songs 
that rise before the throne, will be melodies 
that are warbled by infant orphans' tongues, 
and that gush forth from full infant hearts. 
The unspeakably precious truth comes home 
from this to every parent, that, if a saint of 
God, he shall join in the songs of heaven with 
his departed infants, who have already caught 
the key-note. 



22 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

The Doctrine Inferred from the Great Multitude of the Redeemed. 

On no other ground, we may also observe, 
tlian on that of the universal safety of deceased 
infants, can we account for the vast multitudes 
declared to be ultimately saved. The various 
expressions used in Scripture respecting the 
final salvation of men, unquestionably imply 
that a very great number will be eternally saved. 
" After this I beheld, and lo, A great multi- 
tude, which no man could number, of all na- 
tions, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, 
clothed vfith white robes, and palms in their 
hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying. 
Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the 
throne, and unto the Lamb." '' A great mul- 
titude which no man can number" is the 
characteristic of the finally saved ; showing 
that it is not a minority, but a majority, that 
shall ultimately be admitted to glory. Christ, 
in numbers, as in glory, shall have the pre- 
eminence. In the nineteenth of Revelation, 
again, we read, " And I heard as it were the 
voice of a great multitude^ and as the voice of 
many waters : " another expression denoting the 
vast number of the saved. This is a sweet and 



LITTLE ONES IN" HEAVEN. 23 

majestic thought. The great multitude mil not 
be lost The prospect dilates the heart of 
philanthropy, and comes home to us clothed 
with the attributes and glories of God. 

Bavid's Assurance of his Bead CliiM's Salvation. 

There is at least one Scriptural text that 
seems to expressly assert the safety of dead 
infants. Yv^e allude to the declaration at the 
close of the beautiful passage descriptive of 
David's feelings on the loss of his infant, re- 
corded in 2 Samuel 12: 15-23.* "I shall 
GO TO HIM," said David, " but he shall not re- 
turn to me." If ever there was a case where 
the infant might be expected to suffer here- 
after for the father's sin, it was that of David 
in this passage. Yet David's conviction of his 
own sin, expressed so poignantly in the fifty- 
first Psalm, and anxiety about his own spirit- 
ual safety, did not cloud his assurance of the 
safety of this babe. He believed he should 
meet him in that purer and better land whither 
he had gone before him. 

* The passage is quoted in full on p. 33. 



24 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



Of Such is the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Our Saviour has said, " Suffer little children 
to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven." This passage, 
taken in its plain and literal sense, seems to 
teach that not only are there infants in heaven, 
but that the greater portion of the redeemed 
belong to this class. The expression, " of such 
is the kingdom of heaven," means, that "of such 
it is in a great measure made up," because 
they will form a very great portion of the re- 
deemed family of heaven. The Saviour ap- 
pears to have had the universal salvation of 
all who die in infancy in his view. His reas- 
oning is not, "of persons resembling such in 
temper and disposition is the kingdom made 
up," for this would not warrant the conclu- 
sion drawn, namely, that children ought not 
to be hindered from being brought to Him, 
in order to be blessed, for on the same prin- 
ciple he might have said, " suffer doves and 
lambs to be brought unto me to be blessed, 
for of persons resembling such is the kingdom 
of God made up." Now, this would prove 
too much ; consequently it proves nothing. 
His words, then, must respect children liter- 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 25 

ally ; and his blessing such ensures their sal- 
vation. Nor can the words be construed 
to respect only the particular children then 
brought to Him, or any particular class of 
children exclusively, for the expression, " of 
such," is comprehensive of all who never get 
beyond the condition of infancy. 

Again, our Saviour often calls his adult be- 
lievers " little ones," and " little children." 
But there would be a manifest impropriety in 
thus denominating believers, if it were not true 
that " little children," and " little ones," may 
be subjects of salvation. 

A Comforting Promise for BereaveJ Parents. 

" Thus said the Lord, a voice was heard in 
Kamah, lamentation, and bitter weeping ; Ka- 
chel weeping for her children, refused to be 
comforted for her children, because they were 
not. Thus saith the Lord, refrain thy voice 
from weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for 
thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord ; 
and they shall come again from the land of 
the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, 
saith the Lord, that thy children shall come 
again to their own border." — Jer. 31 : 15-17. 

That the subjects of this prediction are lit- 
3 



26 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

tie children, is proved by the quotation of this 
scripture in Matthew's gospel, and its applica- 
tion to those of ^'two years old and under" 
that were slain by Herod : " Then Herod, 
when he saw that he was mocked of the wise 
men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and 
slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, 
and in all the coasts thereof, from two years 
old and under, according to the time which he 
had diligently inquired of the wise men. Then 
was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy 
the prophet, saying, In Ramah was there a 
voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and 
great mourning, Eachel weeping for her child- 
ren, and would not be comforted, because they 
are not." — Matt. 2: 16-18. 

The only " land of the enemy " from which 
these children could come, is the land of death, 
" the last enemy " the saved will encounter. 
As the resurrection and salvation of Herod's 
innocents are thus affirmed, it follows that all 
of like age will also be saved. And hence 
the word of comfort uttered to Rachel, may 
be laid hold of by all parents bereaved of in- 
fants, as applicable to themselves. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 27 

Infant SalvatiGn Inferred from the Abundant Provisions of 
Grace. 

The abundant provision which Christ has 
made for the redemption of our fallen race, 
encourages us to believe that those shall be 
partakers of " the free gift " who die before 
they are capable of deliberately rejecting it. 
Jesus is " the Saviour of the world." He 
" gave himself a ransom for all." He " tasted 
death for every man ; " " and He is the pro- 
pitiation for our sins ; and not for ours only, 
but also for the sins of the whole world." In 
the fifth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Eo- 
mans, there is a chain of reasoning on this point, 
which seems to lead to the inevitable conclusion 
that the infantile dead are included in the pro- 
visions of mercy. The apostle argues that the 
glory of Christ's work is more illustriously dis- 
played in overcoming the accumulated effects 
of the many personal offences of actual trans- 
gressors, than in simply overcoming those of 
the single offence of Adam. He takes for 
granted the redemption of those who had "not 
sinned after the similitude of Adam's trans- 
gression," when reasoning on the transcendent 
grandeur of the plan of mercy, as embracing 
the remission of " the many offences " of actual 



28 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

transgressors. On tlie full glory of the plan, 
as thus most impressively exhibited, he de- 
lighted to dwell, and what he says of the cir- 
cumstances of infants, is introduced chiefly for 
the sake of illustrating this higher manifestation 
of " the exceeding riches " of divine grace. In 
arguing for the greater, he takes for granted 
the less. He cannot but be considered as 
teaching us, that the scheme of redemption 
shields from the penal consequences of Adam's 
sin, separately viewed, or where they are not 
connected with actual sin and final impeni- 
tence, seeing he maintains that its object ex- 
tends, not to this only, but much further. We 
infer, therefore, that, under the present dis- 
pensation, no exclusion occurs, where noth- 
ing additional to the sin of Adam has taken 
place, since all obstructions in the way of the 
honorable exercise of mercy and grace have 
been completely removed, by the infinitely 
precious sacrifice of Christ. " For if through 
the ofi'ence of one many be dead, much more 
the grace of God, and the gift by grace, which 
is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded 
unto many." " But where sin abounded, grace 

DID MUCH MORE ABOUND." 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 29 



THE EEAPEK. 

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, 

And, with his sickle keen 
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath. 

And the flowers that grow between. 

" Shall I have nought that is fair," saith he ; 
" Have nought but the bearded grain ? 
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to 
me, 9 

I will give them all back again." 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 
He kissed their drooping leaves : 

It was for the Lord of Paradise 
He bound them in his sheaves. 

" My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," 

The Reaper said, and smiled ; 
" Dear tokens of the earth are they, 

Where he Wcis once a child. 

" They shall all bloom in fields of light. 
Transplanted by my care, 
And saints, upon their garments white, 
These sacred blossoms wear." 
3* 



80 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

And the motlier gave, In tears and pain, 
The flowers she most did love ; 

She knew she should find them all again 
In the fields of light above. 

O, not In cruelty, not In wrath, 
The Keaper came that day ; 

'T was an angel visited the green earth 
And took the flowers away. 

Longfellow. 



THE WANDERER RECLAIMED. 

A shepherd long had sought in vain 

To call a wandering sheep : 
He strove to make its pathway plain 

Through dangers thick and deep. 

But yet the wanderer stood aloof, 

And still refused to come ; 
Nor would she ever hear reproof, 

Or turn to seek her home. 

At last the gentle shepherd took 

Her little lamb from view ! 
The mother njazed with ano-uished look — 

She turned — and followed too ! 



LITTLE ONES IK HEAYEN. 31 



DEATH OF THE EIEST BORN. 

Young mother, he is gone ! 
His dimpled cheek no more will touch thy breast; 

No more the music-tone 
Float from his lips, to thine all fondly pressed ; 
His smiles and happy laugh are lost to thee : 
Earth must his mother and his pillow be. 

His was the morning hour, 
And he hath passed in beauty from the day, 

A bud, not yet a flower, 
Tom, in its sweetness, from the parent spray ; 
The death-wind swept him to his soft repose, 
As frost, in spring-time, blights the early rose. 

Never on earth agam 
Will his rich accents charm thy listening ear, 

Like some ^olian strain, 
Breathing at eventide serene and clear ; 
His voice is choked in dust, and on his eyes 
The unbroken seal of peace and silence Kes. 

And from thy yearning heart. 
Whose inmost core was warm with love for him, 

A gladness must depart. 
And those kind eyes with many tears be dim ; 



32 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN, 

While lonely memories, an unceasing train, 
Will turn the raptures of the past to pain. 

Yet, mourner, while the day 
Eolls like the darkness of a funeral by, 

And hope forbids one ray 
To stream athwart the grief-discolored sky, 
There breaks upon thy sorrow's evening gloom 
A trembling lustre from beyond the tomb. 

'T is from the better land ! 
There, bathed in radiance that around them 
springs. 

Thy loved one's wings expand ; 
As with the choiring cherubim he sinf^s, 
And all the glory of that God can see. 
Who said, on earth, to children, " Come to me.'* 

Mother, thy child is blessed ; 
And though his presence may be lost to thee, 

And vacant leave thy breast, 

And missed, a sweet load from thy parent knee ; 

Though tones familiar from thine ear have 

passed, 

Thou 'It meet thy first-born with his Lord at 

last. 

Willis Gaylord Clark. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 33 

THE DEATH OF DAVID'S CHn.D. 

And the Lord struck the child that Uriah's 
wife bare unto David, and it was very sick. 
David therefore besought God for the child ; 
and David fasted, and went in, and lay all 
night upon the earth. And the elders of his 
house arose, and went to him, to raise him up 
from the earth : but he would not, neither 
did he eat bread with them. 

And it came to pass on the seventh day, 
that the child died. And the servants of David 
feared to tell him that the child was dead : for 
they said, " Behold, while the child was yet 
alive, we spake unto him, and he would not 
hearken unto our voice : how will he then vex 
himself, if we tell him that the child is dead ? " 

But when David saw that his servants whis- 
pered, David perceived that the child was 
dead : therefore David said unto his servants, 
" Is the child dead ? " And they said, " He is 
dead." Then David arose from the earth, and 
washed, and anointed himself, and changed his 
apparel, and came into the house of the Lord, 
and worshipped : then he came to his own 
house ; and when he required, they set bread 
before him, and he did eat. 

Then said his servants unto him, " What 



84 LITTLE O^^ES IN HEAYEN. 

thing is this that thou has done ? thou didst fast 
and weep for the child, while it was alive ; but 
when the child was dead, thou didst rise and 
eat bread." And he said, " While the child 
was yet alive, I fasted and wept: for I said, 
' Who can tell whether God will be gracious 
to me, that the child may live ? ' But now he 
is dead, wherefore should I fast ? can I bring 
him back again ? I shall go to him, but he 
shall not return to me." — Second Book of 
Samuel, 



A SHORT LIFE MAT BE A PEKFECT ONE. 

It is not growing like a tree 
In bulk, doth make man better be, 
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, 
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear, 
A lily of a day 
Is faii-er far, in May, 
, Although it fall and die that night. 
It was the plant and fiower of light ! 
In small proportions we just beauties see : 
And in short measures life may perfect be. 

Be:? Jowsow. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVENo 35 

THE MOTHEK'S SACRIFICE. 

" What shall I render Thee, Father Supreme, 
For thy rich gifts, and this the best of all ? " 
Said the young mother, as she fondly watched 
Her sleeping babe. There was an answering 

voice 
That night in dreams : — 

" Thou hast a tender flower 
Upon thy breast — fed with the dews of love : 
Send me that flower. Such flowers there are in 

heaven.'* 
But there was silence. Yea, a hush so deep, 
Breathless and terror-stricken, that the lip 
Blanched in its trance. 

" Thou hast a little harp, — 
How sweetly would it swell the angel's hymn ! 
Yield me that harp." 

There rose a shuddering sob, 
As if the bosom by some hidden sword 
Was cleft in twain. 

Morn came — a blight had found 
The crimson velvet of the unfoldin<T bud, 
The harp-strings rang a thrilling strain, and 

broke — 
And that young mother lay upon the earth 
In childless agony. Again the voice 
That stirred her vision : 



36 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" He who asked of thee, 
Loveth a cheerful giver." So she raised 
Her gushing ejes, and, ere the tear-drop dried 
Upon its fringes, smiled — and that meek smile, 
Like Abraham's faith, was counted righteousness. 
Mrs. L. H. Sigoukney. 



TWO OlSr EARTH AND TWO IN HEAVEN. 

Two on earth, their little feet 

Glance like sunbeams round the door; 

Two in heaven, whose lips repeat 
Words of blessings evermore. 

Two on earth, at shut of day, 

Softly sink to cradled rest ; 
Two in heaven, more blessed than they, 

Slumber on the Saviour's breast. 

Two with crowns of budding flowers 
Dance the summer skies beneath ; 

Two in heaven's unfading bowers 
Wear the glory like a wreath. 

Two on earth, whose merry call 
Stirs my heart to gladness now | 

Two in heaven, whose kisses fall 
Through the silence on my brow. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 37 

Two on earth, O, day by day, 
Kneeling at my Father's throne, 

Thus with pleading heart I pray, 

" Shepherd, make my lambs thy own ! " 

Two within that sweeter home 
Have no need of earthly prayer ; 

There with angel songs they roam 
Through the pastures green and fair. 

Oft I gaze with tearful eyes, 

Where the church-yard daisies blow ; 
Oft my prayers are only sighs, 

Yearning for my children so. 

Yet I know the Shepherd's hand 
Led them home in tender love ; 

Mine is sure a blessed band, 
Two on earth and two above. 

Emily C. Huntingdon. 



THE MEETING. 

O ! WHEN a mother meets on high, 

The child she lost in infancy, 

Hath she not then for pains and fears, 

The day of woe, the watchful night, 
For all her sorrows, all her tears. 

An over payment of delight ? 
4 



88 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

THE LOSS OF A LITTLE CHILD, 

O ! SAY not 't were a keener blow 

To lose a cMld of riper years, 
You cannot feel a mother's woe, 

You cannot dry a mother's tears t 
The girl who rears a sickly plant. 

Or cherishes a wounded dove, 
Will love them most while most they want 

The watchfulness of love ! 

Time must have changed that fair young brow ! 

Time might have changed that spotless heart ! 
Years might have taught deceit — but now 

In love's confiding dawn we part 1 
Ere pain or grief had wrought decay, 

My babe is cradled in the tomb ; 
Like some fair blossom torn away 

Before its perfect bloom. 

With thoughts of peril and of storm. 

We see a bark first touch the wave ; 
But distant seems the whirlwind's form, 

As distant — as an infant's grave ! 
Though all is calm, that beauteous ship 

Must brave the whirlwind's rudest breath 5 
Though all is calm, that infant's lip 

Must meet the kiss of death ! 

Thomas Hayi^^es Bayly, 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 39 



A BEREAVED FATHER'S ASSURANCE. 

Like you, my friend, I have been called to 
witness the unexpected departure of my chil- 
dren. Two of them I committed to the same 
grave, where they sleep the sleep of death. 
They were growing up together like two young 
flowers, which had intertwined their tendrils, 
and mingled their sweet fragrance, but which 
were suddenly withered by the same rude blast. 
Like them, these children were lovely in their 
lives, and in death they were not divided. The 
same storm overwhelmed tfem both. They lie, 
as it were, arm in arm, and side by side, in the 
same deep and narrow bed of earth, untQ they 
awake in the morning of the resurrection. Nor 
do they lie alone ; their narrow bed has been 
uncovered to receive another sleeper, the victim 
of a similar malady, whose sun of brightest 
promise went down while my heart was still 
rejoicing in the beauty of its day-spring. 

It was when tossed upon that sea of trouble 
in which these sudden visitations involved me, I 
was led to the full investigation of the question 
of the salvation of infants. That examination 
more than confirmed my hopes. It strength- 
ened them into A comfortable assurance 



40 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

THAT IN THE DEATH OF INFANTS, IT IS WELL 
WITH THEM, AND WELL WITH THEIR PARENTS 

— that God's purposes are merciful to both — 
and that while he glorifies himself in the exalta- 
tion of the children to heaven, he would also 
secure by such afflictions the sanctification and 
the salvation of their parents. — Rev, Dr. 
Smyth's Solace for Bereaved Parents, 



BEREAVEMENT. 

Nay, weep not, dearest, though the child be dead, 
He lives again in heaven's unclouded life, 

With other angels that have early fled 

From these dark scenes of sorrow, sin, and 
strife ; 

Nay, weep not, dearest, though thy yearning love 
Would fondly keep for earth its fairest flowers, 

And e'en deny to brighter realms above 

The few that deck this dreary world of ours : 

Though much it seems a wonder and a wo 
That one so loved should be so early lost. 

And hallowed tears may unforbidden flow 
To mourn the blossom that we cherished most : 
Yet all is well ; God's good design I see, 
That where our treasure is, our hearts may be ! 

J. G. Saxe. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 41 



BABY'S SHOES. 

O, THOSE little, those little blue shoes 1 
Those shoes that no little feet use 1 
O, the price were high 
That those shoes would buy, 
Those little blue unused shoes ! 

For they hold the small shape of feet 
That no more their mother's eyes meet, 

That, by God's good will, 

Years since grew still, 
And ceased from their totter so sweet I 

And O, since that baby slept, 

So hushed, how the mother has kept, 

With a tearful pleasure, 

That dear little treasure. 
And over them thought and wept ! 

For they mind her for evermore 
Of a patter along the floor ; 

And blue eyes she sees 

Look up from her knees 
With the look that in life they wore, 

As they lie before her there. 
There babbles from chair to chair, 
4* 



42 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

A little sweet face 
That 's a gleam in the place^ 
With its little gold curls of hair. 

Then, O, wonder not that her heart 
From all else would rather part 

Than those tiny blue shoes 

That no little feet use, 
And whose sight makes such fond tears start. 
W. C. Bennett. 



WE ARE SEVEN. 



• A SIMPLE child, 



That lightly draws its breath, 
And feels its life in every limb, 
What should it know of death ? 

I met a little cottage girl ; 

She was eight years old, she said ; 
Her hair was thick with many a curl 

That clustered round her head. 

She had a rustic, woodland air, 

And she was wildly clad ; 
Her eyes were fair, and very fair, 

Her beauty made me glad. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 43 

" Sisters and brothers, little maid, 

How many may you be ? " 
" How many ? — Seven in all," she said, 

And wondering looked at me. 

" And who are they ? I pray you, tell." 
She answered, " Seven are we ; 
And two of us at Conway dwell, 
And two are gone to sea. 

" Two of us in the churchyard lie, 
My sister and my brother ; 
And in the churchyard cottage, I 
Dwell near them with my mother." 

" You say that two at Conway dwell, 
And two are gone to sea, 
Yet ye are seven ! — I pray you tell. 
Sweet maid, how this may be," 

Then did the little maid reply, 
" Seven boys and girls are we ; 

Two of us in the churchyard lie, 
Beneath the churchyard tree." 

" You run about, my little maid. 
Your limbs they are alive ; 
If two are in the churchyard laid, 
Then ye are only five." 



44 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" Their graves are green, they may be seen/* 

The little maid replied, 
" Twelve steps or more from my mother's door 

And they are side by side. 

" My stockings there I often knit, 
My kerchief there I hem ; 
And there upon the ground I sit, 
And sing a song to them, 

" And often after sunset, sir, 
When it is light and fair, 
I take my little porringer, 
And eat my supper there. 

" The first that died was sister Jane ; 
In bed she moaning lay, 
Till God released her of her pain j 
And then she went away. 

" So in the churchyard she was laid ; 
And when the grass was dry, 
Together round her grave we played, 
My brother John and I. 

" And when the ground was white with snow, 
And I could run and slide. 
My brother John was forced to go. 
And he lies by her side." 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 45 

" How many are you, then," said I, 
'' If tliey two are in heaven ? " 
Quick was the little maid's reply, 
" O, master ! we are seven." 

** But they are dead ; those two are dead ! 
Their spirits are in heaven ! " 
'T was throwing words away : for still 
The little maid would have her will, 
And said, " Nay, we are seven ! " 

Wordsworth. 



ON THE DEATH OF AN INEANT. 

So fades the lovely, blooming flower, 
Frail, smiling solace of an hour ; 
So soon our transient comforts fly, 
And pleasure only blooms to die. 

Is there no kind, no healing art. 
To soothe the anguish of the heart ? 
Spirit of grace, be ever nigh : 
Thy comforts are not made to die. 

See gentle patience smile on pain, 
Till dying hope revives again ; 
Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye, 
And faith points upward to the sky. 



46 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYENo 



THE CRUSHED BUD. 

One little bud adorned my bower, 

And shed sweet fragrance round ; 
It grew in beauty, hour by hour, 
Till, ah ! the spoiler came in power, 
And crushed it to the ground. 

Yet not forever in the dust 

That beauteous bud shall He ; 
No ! — in the garden of the just, 
Beneath God's glorious eye, we trust, 
'T will bloom ao;ain on hisfh. 



THE GATHERED BUD. 

Have we not knelt beside his bed, 

And watched our first-born blossom die ? 
Hoped, till the shade of hope had fled, 

Then wept till feeling's fount was dry ? 
Was it not sweet in that dark hour, 

To think, 'mid mutual tears and sighs, 
Our bud had left its earthly bower, 

And burst to bloom in Paradise ? 

Alario a. Watts. 



LITTLE ONES IX HEAVEN. 47 



SENTENCES EEOM THE SCEIPTUEES. 

It is the Lord : let Him do what seemeth Him 
good. 

I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; be- 
cause Thou didst it. 

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
away ; blessed be the name of the Lord. 

Man that is born of a woman is of few days, 
and full of trouble. He cometh forth liko a 
flower, and is cut down : he ileeth also as a 
shadow, and continueth not. 

As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower 
of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind 
passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the place 
thereof shall know it no more. 

Then shall the dust return to the earth as 
it was: and the spirit shall return unto God 
who gave it. 

There the wicked cease from troubling ; and 
there the weary be at rest. 

For we know that if our earthly house of this 
tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building 
of God, an house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens. 

Is it well with the child ? And she answered, 
It is well. 



48 LITTLE ONES IIS HEAYEN. 

O deatli, where is thy sting ? O grave, where 
is thy victory ? Thanks be to God, which 
giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ. 

Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He 
shall sustain thee. 

But though He cause grief, yet will He have 
compassion according to the multitude of His 
mercies. For He doth not afflict willingly, nor 
grieve the children of men. 

In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for 
a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will 
I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Ke- 
deemer. 

God is our refuge and strength, a very pre- 
sent help in trouble. 

Blessed is the man whom Thou chastenest, 
O Lord, and teachest him out of Thy law. 

It is good for me that I have been afflicted ; 
that I might learn Thy statutes. 

For our light affliction, which is but for a mo- 
ment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory. 



LITTLE ONES IIS" HEAVEN. 49 



MIDNIGHT. 



Far off the clocks are striking, 
'T is midnight's deepest shade, 

The lamp but feebly glimmers, — 
Thy little bed is made. 



Around the house go mourning 

The winds so drearily ; 
Within we sit In silence, 

And listen, as for thee. 

Dreaming that we shall hear thee 

Knock sofdy at the door, 
Aweary with thy wandering, 

Glad to return once more. 

Poor fools ! thus to dissemble ! 

The fond hope will not stay ; 
We wake and feel too surely 

Thy home Is far away. 

From the German op Eichendorfp. 



50 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 



MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH? 

" Mother, how still the baby lies 1 
I cannot hear his breath ; 
I cannot see his laughing eyes — 
They tell me this is death. 

*' My little work I thought to bring, 
And sat down by his bed, 
And pleasantly I tried to sing — 
They hushed me — he is dead. 

" They say that he again will rise, 
More beautiful than now ; 
That God will bless him in the skies - 
O, mother, tell me how ! " 

^^ Daughter, do you remember, dear, 
The cold, dark thing you brought. 
And laid upon the casement here, — 
A withered worm, you thought ? 

" I told you that Almighty power 
Could break that withered shell, 
And show you, in a future hour, 
Something would please you well. 



LITTLE ONES IN HE A YEN. 51 

" Look at the chrysalis, my love, — 
An empty shell it lies ; 
Now raise your wondering glance aboYe, 
To where yon insect flies ! " 

" O yes, mamma ! how very gay 

Its wings of starry gold ! 

And see ! it lightly flies away 

Beyond my gentle hold. 

" O, mother, now I know full well, 
If God that worm can change, 
And draw it from this broken cell, 
On golden wings to range, — 

" How beautiful will brother be, 

A\"hen God shall give liim wings. 
Above this dying world to flee. 
And live with heavenly things ! " 

CAK0LI:XE GlLMAJf. 



LOVE. 

God gives us love. Sometimes to love 
He lends us ; but when love has grown 

To ripeness, that on which it throve 
Falls oif, and love is left alone. 

TE]\T?YS0N. 



52 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN^ 



EVA. 

Dry ihj tears for I20I7 Eva, 
With the blessed angels leave her ; 
Of the form so soft and fair, 
Give to earth the tender care. 

In the better home of Eva 
Let the shining ones receive her, 
"With the welcome voiced psalm, 
Harp of gold and waving palm I 

All is light and peace with Eva ; 
There the darkness cometh never ; 
Tears are wiped and fetters fall. 
And the Lord is all in all. 

Weep no more for happy Eva, 
Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her, 
Care and pain and weariness, 
Lost in love so measureless. 

Gentle Eva, loving Eva, 
Child confessor, true believer, 
Listener at the Master's knee, 
" Suffer such to come to me." 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN, 53 

O for faitli like thee, sweet Eva, 
Lighting all the solemn river, 
And the blessings of the poor, 
Wafting to the heavenly shore. 

JoHif G, Whittier. 



HEAVEN. 

Why, day by day, this painful questioning ? 

I know that it is well. I know that tliere 

(0 where?) thou hast protectors, guardians, 

friends, 
If such be needed : angel companies 
Move round thee : mighty spirits lead thy 

thoughts 
To founts of knowledge which we never saw. 
I know that thou art happy — fresh desire 
Springing each day, and each day satisfied ! 
God's glorious works all open to thy view. 
His blessed creatures thine, where pain nor 

death 
Disturbs not nor divides. All this I know — 
But O, for one short sight of what I know ! 

Alfobd. 



5* 



54 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 



SEVEN YEAES IN HEAVEN. 

He has been there seven years ! A week 
of years : Sabbaths all, and holy, happy days, 
have made up the years that glide away un- 
marked by change of scene or season, in that 
land where there is no night, no cold, but 
" sacred, high, eternal noon." 

Year after year rolls slowly away on earth, 
and leno^thens the lonoj interval over which we 
look, to the time when he was with us here. 
We have grown old since we saw him. But 
the memory of our first buried babe is as fresh 
and green as the grass was on his little grave 
when last we watered it with tears. 

He has not grown old. " They only who 
have lost a child in infancy are sure of a babe 
forever." They do not grow old in heaven. 
They grow in knowledge and holiness and 
happiness. But there is no succession of time 
in eternity. When we think of one having 
been " seven years in heaven," we think of 
the time that has past with us without him. 
He is conscious of no successive years in that 
world where there is no sun nor moon : nor 
stars, but in the crown of Him who is the light 
of heaven. 



LITTLS OXES IN HEAVEN. 55 

Years belong to us ; and tliey have been long 
and wearisome since he went to his Father's 
house on high. He was the light of our house, 
" a well-spring of pleasure ; " a joy and solace ; 
bright, beautiful, blessing and blest ; and when 
he died, our hearts died with him, or lived only 
to bleed on year after year, each passing one 
being marked by this memorial, this returning 
anniversary of our dear child's death. Our 
hearts do live : for they yearn after that buried 
boy with longing that no language can express ; 
they bleed as if the wound was of yesterday ; 
they ache wlien we think of him, (and when can 
we not think of him ? ) we mourn like Rachel, 
and the sorrow seems no lighter, no less, than 
it did seven years ago. I think it is a heavier 
sorrow, a sorer pain to bear. I have shed more 
tears for him this seventh year of grief, than 
in any former year of the seven. He would 
have been ten years old had he lived with us 
until now ! He might have been as good in 
his youth, as he was lovely in his infancy ; and 
then what a glorious being he would have been, 
now standing by my side as I write these words 
in sadness to his memory, or sitting here and 
reading of heaven, and talking to me of the 
world above the skies. 

What a glorious being, did I say, he would 



56 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

have been ? Rather let me saj, what a glori- 
ous being is he now ! Seven years there have 
been more and better than seventy times seven 
thousand years on earth. I know it. God help 
me to admit that it is better far, for him, for me, 
for all, that he should have spent them there 
than here. For what attainments must that 
soul have made that for these seven years past 
has been pursuing the career of heavenly study 
— the mysteries of celestial learning and celes- 
tial love I I do not know whether he prefers 
to be with seraphs or cherubim : the former 
are said to love and the latter to know the 
more. I think that he wanders with both, and 
finds congenial spirits in John and Paul. He 
has been seven years with them, and with the 
Saviour who took him to his arms from ours. 
Now he must be far advanced in knowledge 
and in holiness. With such companions, such 
instructors, how wise and good he must be ! If 
he should come back to us, he could find no 
company with whom he would be at home. 
Within the last year, one whom he revered 
and loved, his aged grandsire, has gone to 
heaven. The child has welcomed him there : 
taken him by the hand, and led him to foun- 
tains of living waters, and charmed his ear with 
heavenly melodies, and become his teacher in 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 57 

the things of the kingdom. It must be brighter 
and sweeter now for both, that they can sit 
together in heavenly places, and speak of the 
wonders of earth and heaven, as they now ap- 
pear to their opened eyes. Sixty years were 
between them when they were here together : 
there the child had seven years the start of his 
grandsire, and leads him upward to the sources 
of Infinite wisdom and love. I should be glad 
to see them there. I should have been glad to 
see them when they met in the streets of the 
New Jerusalem ! to have heard the cry of joy 
from the child, as he flew into the patriarch's 
bosom, and hung on his breast, and kissed his 
brow with glory crowned. 

Well, we shall all be there soon. Thank 
God for that A few more days of darkness 
and the morning cometh, the morning of eter- 
nal day. 

*' Then let our songs abound, 
And every tear be dry ; 
We 're marching through Immanuers ground, 
To fairer worlds on high." 

This shall be the last time that we will keep 
the anniversary of our child's release from earth 
with mourning. Thanks be unto God who 
giveth us the victory over death ; not our own 



58 LITTLE ON^ES IN HEAVEN. 

death only, for that is one of the least of trials ; 
but over the death of those we love ; causing us 
to triumph in tribulation ; so that we can say, 
The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; 
blessed be the name of the Lord. 

Rev. Samuel Iren^us Prime. 



THE MOUROTNG MOTHER. 



O ! WHO shall tell what fearful pangs 

That mother's heart are rending, 
As o'er her infant's little grave 

Her wasted form is bending ; 
From many an eye that weeps to-day, 

Delight may beam to-morrow ; 
But she — her precious babe is not ; 

And what remains but sorrow ? 



Bereaved one ! I may not chide 

Thy tears and bitter sobbing, — 
Weep on ! 't will cool that burning brow, 

And still that bosom's throbbing : 
But be not thine such grief as theirs, 

To whom no hope is given, — 
Snatched from the world, its sins and snares, 

Thy infant rests in heaven. 

Bishop Doake, 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN. 59 



ON THE DEATH OF A SON, 

I NEVER trusted to have lived 

To bid farewell to thee, \ 

And almost said, in agony, 
It ought not so to be ; 

I hoped that thou within the grave 
My weary head shouldst lay, 

And live, beloved, when I was gone, 

For many a happy day. 

With trembling hand I vainly tried 

Thy djing eyes to close ; 
And almost envied, in that hour, 

Thy calm and deep repose ; 
For I was left in loneliness, 

With pain and grief oppressed. 
And thou wast with the sainted. 

Where the weary are at rest. 

Yes, I am sad and weary now ; 

But let me not repine. 
Because a spirit, loved so well. 

Is earlier blessed than mine ; 
My faith may darken as it will, 

I shall not much deplore, 
Since thou art ivhere the ills of life 

Can never reach thee more, 

W. B. O. Peabody. 



60 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE LITTLE COFFIK 

'T WAS a tiny, rosewood thing, 
Ebon bound, and glittering 
With its stars of silver white, 
Silver tablet, blank and bright, 
Downy pillowed, satin lined, 
That I, loitering, chanced to find 
Mid the dust, and scent and gloom 
Of the undertaker's room, 
Waiting, empty — ah ! for whom? 

Ah ! what love-watched cradle bed 
Keeps to-night the nestling head, 
Or on what soft, pillowing breast 
Is the cherub form at rest, 
That ere long, with darkened eye, 
Sleeping to no lullaby, 
Whitely robed, and still, and cold, 
Pale flowers slipping from its hold, 
Shall this dainty couch enfold ? 

Ah ! what bitter tears shall stain 
All tjbis satin sheet like rain, 
And what towering hopes be hid 
'Neath this tiny coffin lid, 
Scarcely large enough to bear 
Little words that must be there, 



LITTLE ONES IK HEAVEN. 61 

Little words, cut deep and true, 
Bleeding motliers' hearts anew — 
Sweet, pet name, and " aged two 1 " 

Oh ! can sorrow's hovering plume, • 
Hound our pathway cast a gloom, 
Chill and darksome as the shade 
By an infant's coffin made ? 
From our arms an angel flies, 
And our startled, dazzled eyes, 
Weeping round its vacant place, 
Cannot rise its path to trace, 
^ Cannot see the angel face ! 

Mrs. H. L. Bostwick. 



THE LILY. 

Some, a similitude to childhood see. 

In vines which cling to a deep-rooted tree ; 

Some, in the rosebud infancy perceive, 

The bloom of beauty ushered from its leaves ; 

The vine a serpent's covert may enclose. 

And thorns, deep piercing, lie beneath the rose. 

She was the lily, type of purity. 

Swept by death's tide to glory's waveless sea, 

And then replanted by an angel hand. 

Bloomed in the gardens of the upper land. 

JoHTf J. Morris. 
6 



62 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE INFANT HOST IN HEAYEN 

In view of tlie character of God, the priest- 
hood of Jesus Christ, and the slight intimations 
of holy writ, we may rest in a comfortable as- 
surance that all departed infants are made spirit- 
ually and forever alive ; that "As in Adam all 
die, so in Christ shall all be made alive." " There 
is hope in their end, saith the Lord, that thy 
children shall come again to their own border." 
" Moreover, your little ones, which ye said 
should be a prey, and your children, which in 
that day had no knowledge between good and 
evil, they shall go in thither, and unto them will 
I give it, and they shall possess it." 

Our thoughts mount at once, delightfully and 
gratefully, to our Father's house, where are 
many mansions ; and we understand better why 
in that blissful abode there is such an exceeding 
great multitude, which no man can number. 
" For of such — of such more numerously than 
all others — is the kingdom of God." " These 
were redeemed from among men, being the first 
fruits unto God and the Lamb." It is estimated 
that, of all born into this world, one half leave 
it in infancy. If such be the case, then, accord- 
ing to a computation which makes the whole 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 63 

i*ace thus far to number twent} -eight thousand 
millions, there would be at this moment fourteen 
thousand millions in heaven who were infants 
when they went there. Whatever may be 
thought of the probable correctness of this esti- 
mate, the field thus opened for joyful contempla- 
tion is inmaense, and as enrapturing as immense. 
How many times must we multiply the present 
population of our globe to make it equal the 
host which has already gone to the regions of 
bhss ! How many more will at last be found to 
be saved than lost ! How will the glory of God 
shine in the recovery by the second Adam, so 
much more ample than the ruin by the first ! 
How is Satan baffled in his most malicious plans, 
and our Eedeemer divinely victorious ! 

« * * -» ^ * '» * 

Alas, for Plerod ! not for the martvrs of Beth- 
lehem! alas, for the persecuting pontiffs and 
monarchs ! not for their infant victims ; alas, 
for the mother on the banks of the Ganges! 
not for her offspring afloat on its waters ; — alas, 
for them, that they did not themselves perish in 
earliest infancy ! ^'Is it well with the child? 
It is well." " I shall go to him ; " and I shall 
there find him a cherub, his voice joining clear 
and sweet in the choir of heaven ; all his earthly 



64 LITTLE Oi^ES EST HEAVEN. 

beauty, all his infant loveliness, ripened into 
the perfected excellence of heaven. 

" Look upward, and your child you ^11 see, 
Fixed in his blest abode j 
Who would not, therefore, childless be, 
To give a child to God?" 

Eev. a. C. Thompso]n\ 



THE STOISTE ROLLED FKOM THE TOMB. 

As vernal ilowers that scent the morn, 

But wither in the rising day, 
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn, 

Thus swiftly fled his life away. 

He died before his infant soul ^ 
Had ever burnt with wrong desires — 

Had ever spurned at Heaven's control, 
Or ever quenched its sacred fires. 

He died to sin ; he died to care ; 

But for a moment felt the rod ; 
Then, rising on the viewless air. 

Spread his light wings, and soared to God. 

This blessed theme now cheers my voice ; 

The grave is not the loved one's prison ; 
The " stone " that covered half my joys 

Is " rolled away," and, lo ! " he's risen.* 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN, 65 

LITTLE MARY. 

From the group of little faces 

One is gone — - 
Li the old familiar places, 

Sad and lone, 
Father, mother, meek-eyed brother, 

Sit and moan ; 

Sit and moan for one departed, 

Pure and mild, 
Little Mary, gentle-hearted, 

Sinless child — 
And as nestling memories thicken, 

Griefs grow wild. 

Home once bright, how cold and dreary ! 

Shadows deep 
Fall on forms and hearts a-weary, 

Eyes that weep — 
Thought is in the church-yard, seeking 

One asleep. 

Still the merry laugh deceiving 

Fills the ear, 
Tiny arms, yet fondly cleaving. 

Dry the tear ; 
Footfalls, silvery footfalls patter 

Far and near. 
6* 



66 I.ITTLE ONES IN HEAYENo 

Ears instmetive pause to hearken, 

All in vain — 
Days drag on and skies shall darken 

O'er with pain ; 
But the heart will find its lost one 

Ne'er again. 

From the treasured fire-side faces 

Here to-day, 
From the tender, warm embraces 

Dropped away, 
Sleeps she midst fiDrgotten sleepers 

In the clay. 

Ah ! what weary numbers sighing 

To be fi^ee, 
Little Mary, would be lying 

Low with thee ! 
Where no care nor eating sorrow 

E'er shall be. 

Weep not when ye tell the story 

Of the dead — 
*T is a sunbeam joined the glory 

Overhead ! 
" For of such sweet babes is heaven,** 
Jesus said. 



LITTLE OjS^ES IK HEAYEN. 67 



AGAINST EXCESSIVE GRIEF.^ 

I Kis'ow no duty in religion more generally 
agreed on, nor more justly required by God 
Almighty, than a perfect submission to His will 
in all things ; nor do I think any disposition of 
mind can either please Him more, or become 
us better, than that of being satisfied with all 
He gives, and contented with all He takes away. 
None, I am sure, can be of more honor to God, 
nor of more ease to ourselves. For, if we con- 
sider Him as our Maker, we cannot contend 
with Him ; if as our Father, we ought not to 
distrust Him ; so that we may be confident, 
whatever He does is intended for good ; and 
whatever happens that we interpret otherwise, 
yet we can get nothing by repining, nor save 
anything by resisting. 

But if it were fit for us to reason with God 
Almighty, and your ladyship's loss were ac- 
knowledo:ed as o:reat as it could have been to 
any one, yet, I doubt, you would have but ill 
grace to complain at the rate you have done, or 
rather as you do ; for the first emotions or pas- 
sions may be pardoned ; it is only the continu- 

* Addressed to the Countess of Essex, after the death 
of her only daughter. 



68 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

ance of tliem which makes them inexcusable. 
In this world, madam, there is nothing perfectly 
good; and whatever is called so, is but either 
comparatively with other things of its kind, or 
else with the evil there is mingled in its compo- 
sition ; so he is a good man who is better than 
men commonly are, or in whom the good quali- 
ties are more than the bad ; so, in the course 
of life, his condition is esteemed good, which is 
better than that of most other men, or in which 
the good circumstances are more than the evil. 
By this measure, I doubt, madam, your com- 
plaints ought to be turned into acknowledg- 
ments, and your friends would have cause to 
rejoice rather than to condole with you. When 
your ladyship has fairly considered how God 
Almighty has dealt with you in what He has 
given, you may be left to judge yourself how 
you have dealt with Him in your complaints for 
what He has taken away. If you look about 
you, and consider other lives as well as your 
own, and what your lot is, in comparison with 
those that have been drawn in the circle of 
your knoAvledge ; if you think how few are 
born with honor, how many die without name 
or children, how little beauty we see, how few 
friends we hear of, how much poverty and how 
many diseases there are in the world, you v/ill 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 69 

fall down upon your knees, and, instead of re- 
pining at one affliction, will admire so many 
blessings as you have received at the hand of 
God. 

5l<>_ ,sV. a1/ ^^ ^ Mi, Jl*, •!£ 

'Tp: 'sfT r^ 7t% ^ yfc '^ Vfc 

You will say, perhaps, that one thing was all 
to you, and your fondness of it made you indif- 
ferent to everything else. But this, I doubt, 
will be so far from justifying you, that it will 
prove to be your fault as well as your misfortune. 
God Almighty gave you all the blessings of life, 
and you set your heart wholly upon one, and 
despise or undervalue all the rest : is this His 
fault or yours ? Nay, is it not to be very un- 
thankful to Heaven, as well as very scornful to 
the rest of the world ? Is it not to say, because 
you have lost one thing God has given, you 
thank PEm for nothing He has left, and care not 
what He takes away? Is it not to say, since 
that one thing is gone out of the world, there is 
nothino; left in it which vou think can deserve 
your kindness or esteem ? A friend makes me 
a feast, and places before me all that his care 
or kindness could provide : but I set my heart 
upon one dish alone, and, if that happens to 
be thrown down, I scorn all the rest; and 
though he sends for another of the same kind, 
yet I rise from the table in a rage, and say, 



70 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" My friend is become my enemy, and he has 
done me the greatest wrono; in the world." 
Have I reason, madam, or good grace in what 
I do ? Or would it become me better to eat of 
the rest that is before me, and think no more of 
what had happened, and could not be remedied ? 

Christianity teaches and commands us to mod- 
erate our passions ; to temper our affections 
towards all things below ; to be thankful for the 
possession, and patient under the loss, whenever 
He who gave shall see fit to take away. Your 
extreme fondness was perhaps as displeasing to 
God before as now your extreme affliction is; 
and your loss may have been a punishment for 
your faults in the manner of enjoying what you 
had. It is at least pious to ascribe all the ill 
that befalls us to our own demerits, rather than 
to injustice in God. And it becomes us better 
to adore the issues of His providence in the ef- 
fects, than to inquire into the causes ; for sub- 
mission is the only way of reasoning between a 
creature and its Maker ; and contentment in 
His will is the greatest duty we can pretend to, 
and the best remedy we can apply to all our 
misfortunes. ****** 

"VYhen young children are taken away, we 
are sure they are well, and escape much ill, 
which would, in all appearance, have befallen 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN- 71 

them if they had stayed longer with us. Our 
kindness to them is deemed to proceed from com- 
mon opinons or fond imaginations, not friend- 
ship, or esteem ; and to be grounded upon en- 
tertainment rather than use in the many offices 
of life. Xor would it pass from any person 
besides your ladyship, to say you lost a com- 
panion and a friend of nine years old ; though 
you lost one, indeed, who gave the fairest hopes 
that could be of being both in time, and every- 
thing else that is estimable and good. But yet 
that itself is very uncertain, considering the 
chances of time, the infection of company, the 
snares of the world, and the passions of youth : 
so that the most excellent and agreeable crea- 
ture of that tender age might, by the course of 
years and accidents, become the most miserable 
herself; and a greater trouble to her friends by 
living long, than she could have been by dying 
young. 

Yet after all, madam, I think your loss so great, 
and some measure of your grief so deserved, that, 
would all your passionate complaints, all the an- 
guish of your heart, do an}i;hing to retrieve it ; 
could tears water the lovely plant, so as to make 
it grow again after once it is cut down ; could 
sighs furnish new breath, or could it draw Kfe 
and spirits from the wasting of yours, I am sure 



72 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

your friends would be so far from accusing your 
passion, that they would encourage it as much, 
and share it as deeply, as they could. But 
alas ! the eternal laws of the creation extinguish 
all such hopes, forbid all such designs ; nature 
gives us many children and friends to take them 
away, but takes none away, to give them to us 
again. And this makes the excesses of grief to 
be universally condemned as unnatural, because 
so much in vain ; whereas nature does nothing 
in vain ; as unreasonable, because so contrary 
to our own designs ; for we all design to be 
well and at ease, and by grief we make our- 
selves troubles most properly out of the dust, 
whilst our ravings and comjDlaints are but like 
arrows shot up into the air at no mark, and so 
to no purpose, but only to fall back upon our 
own heads and destroy ourselves. 

Sir William Temple. 

GOD GRACIOUS IN HIS JUDGMENTS. 

But for myself, I bless God I have observed 
and felt so much mercy in this angry dispen- 
sation of God, that I am almost transported ; I 
am sure highly pleased with thinking how infin- 
itely sweet his mercies are, when his judgments 
are so gracious. — Jeremy Taylor on the loss of 
two children. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 73 

THE TWmS. 

'T WAS summer, and a Sabbath eve, 

And balmy was the air ; 
I saw a sight that made me grieve, 

And yet that sight was fair : 
Within a little coffin lay 
Two lifeless babes as sweet as May. 

Like waxen dolls which children dress, 

The little bodies were ; 
A look of placid happiness 

Did in each face appear : 
And in the coffin, short and wide, 
They lay together, side by side. 

Their mother, as a lily pale, 

Sat by them on their bed ; 
And bending o*er them told her tale, 

And many a tear she shed ; 

Yet oft she cried amidst her pain, 

" My babes and I shall meet again." 

THE BITTER CUP DECLINED. 

The cup of life just to her lips she prest, 
Found the taste bitter, and declined the rest : 
Averse, then turning from the face of day, 
She softly sighed her infant soul away. 

7 



74 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



I SEE THEE STILL. 

I SEE thee still ; 
Eemembrance, faithful to her trust, 
Calls thee in beauty from the dust ; 
Thou comest in the morning light. 
Thou 'rt with me through the gloomy night ; 
In dreams I meet thee as of old ; 
Then thy soft arms my neck enfold, 
And thy sweet voice is in my ear ; 
In every scene to memory dear, 

I see thee still. 

I see thee still, 
In every hallowed token round ; - 
This little ring thy finger bound. 
This lock of hair thy forehead shaded, 
This silken chain by thee was braided, 
These flowers, all withered now, like thee, 
Sweet Sister^ thou didst cull for me ; 
This book was thine ; here didst thou read ; 
This picture — ah ! yes, here, indeed, 

I see thee still. 

I see thee still ; 
Here was thy summer noon's retreat, 
Here was thy favorite fireside seat ; 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 75 

This was thy chamber — here, each day, 
I sat and watched thy^ad decay ; 
Here, on this bed, thou last didst lie ; 
Here, on this pillow, thou didst die. 
Dark hour ! once more its woes unfold ; 
As then I saw thee, pale and cold, 
I see thee stilL 

I see thee still ; 
Thou art not in the grave confined — 
Death cannot claim the immortal Mind ; 
Let Earth close o'er its sacred trust, 
But Goodness dies not in the dust ; 
Thee, O my Sister ! 'i is not thee 
Beneath the coffin's lid I see ! 
Thou to a fairer land art gone ; , 
There, let me hope, my journey done, 

To see thee still ! 

Charles Sprague. 



ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. 

A GuAHDiAX Angel bore it to the shore 
Where souls embark upon Life's stormy sea, 

When, turning from the angry billows' roar, 
The infant cried, " O take me back with 
thee!'* 



76 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVENo 



TO A MOTHER ON LOSING AN INEANT 
DAUGHTER. 

God does nothing without a reason. That 
reason may have respect to you — it may have 
respect to your child, and not unlikely to both. 
He sees effects in their causes. Your case may 
have been this : you may have been in danger 
of loving the world too much, and He removed 
the cause in time. Her case may have been 
this: she may have been in danger from the 
growth of a corrupt nature, and He took her in 
the bud of being that she might grow without 
imperfection, " for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven." Think of your child, then, not as dead 
but as living, not as a flower that is withered^ 
but as one that is transplanted, and, touched by 
a divine hand, is blooming in richer colors and 
sweeter shades than those of earth, though to 
your eyes these last may have been beautiful, 
more beautiful than you will hope to see again. 

" With patient mind thy course of duty run, 
God nothing does nor suffers to be done 
But thou wouldst do thyself if thou could'st see 
The end of all He does as well as He." 

Rev. Heuman Hooker. 



IXTTLE ONES- IN HEAYEN. 77 



THE THIED SON. 

I HAVE a son, a third sweet son 5 

His age I cannot tell ; 
For they reckon not by years and months, 

Where he hath gone to dwell. 

To ns, for fourteen anxious months 

His infant smiles were given, 
And then he bade farewell to earth, 

And went to live in heaven. 

I cannot tell what form is his. 

What looks he weareth now, 
Nor guess how bright a glory crowns 

His shining seraph brow. 

The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, 

The bliss which he doth feel, 
Are numbered with the secret things 

Which God will not reveal. 

But I know, for God hath told me this, 

That he is now at rest, 
Where other blessed infants are, 

On their Saviour's loving breast. 

7* 



78 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Whate'er befalls Ms brethren twain, 

His bliss can never cease ; 
Their lot may here be grief and fear,' 

But Ms is certain peace. 

It may be that the tempter's wiles 
Their souls from bliss may sever, 

But, if our own poor faith fail not, 
He must be ours forever. 

When we think on what our darling is, 

And what we still must be ; 
When we muse on that world's perfect bliss. 

And tJiis world's misery ; 

When we groan beneath this load of sin, 

And feel this grief and pain, 
O, we 'd rather lose our other two, 

Than have him here again. 

EeV. J. MOtTLTEIE. 

THE YOUNGEST. 

I ROCKED her in the cradle, 
And laid her in the tomb. She was the youngest. 
What fireside circle hath not felt the charm 
Of that sweet tie ? The youngest ne'er grow old ; 
The fond endearments of our earlier days 
We keep alive in them ; and when they die, 
Our youthful joys we bury with them. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 79 



OTJE WEE WHITE EOSE. 

All in our marriage garden 

Grew, smiling up to God, 
A bonnier flower than ever 

Suck'd the green warmth of the sod; 
O, beautiful unfathomably 

Its little life unfurled ; 
And crown of all things was our wee 

AYhite Eose of all the world. 

From out a balmy bosom 

Our bud of beauty grew ; 
It fed on smiles for sunshine ; 

On tears for daintier dew : 
Aye nestling warm and tenderly. 

Our leaves of love were curled, 
So close and close, about our wee 

White Eose of all the world. 

With mystical faint fragrance 

Our house of life she filPd — 
Eevealed each hour some fairy tower 

Where winged hopes might build ! 
We saw — though none like us might see- 

Such precious promise pearled 
Upon the petals of our wee ^ 

White Eose of all the world. 



80 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

But, evermore the halo 

Of angel-light increased, 
Like the mystery of moonlight 

That folds some fairy feast. 
Snow-white, snow-soft, snow-silently, 

Our darhng bud up-curled. 
And dropt i' the grave — God's lap — our 
wee 

White Eose of all the world. 

Our rose was but in blossom ; 

Our life was but in spring ; 
"When down the solemn midnight 

We heard the spirits sing — 
" Another bud of infancy 

With holy dews impearled ! " 
And in their hands they bore our wee 

White Kose of all the world. 

You scarce could think so small a thing 

Could leave a loss so large ; 
Her little light such shadow fling 

From dawn to sunset's marge. 
In other springs our life may be 

In bannered bloom unfurled, 
But never, never match our wee 

White Rose of all the world. 

Gerald Massey. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 81 



THE HAPPY BAOT). 

Around the throne of God in heaven, 
Thousands of children stand — 

Children whose sins are all forgiven, 
A holy, happy band, 

Singing, Glory, glory. 

In flowing robes of spotless white, 

See every one arrayed ; 
Dwelling in everlasting light, 

And joys that never fade. 

Singing, Glory, glory. 

What brought them to that world above ? 

That heaven so bright and fair, 
Where all is peace, and joy, and love ; 

How came those children there ? 
Singing, Glory, glory. 

Because the Saviour shed his blood, 

To wash away their sin ; 
Bathed in that pure and precious flood, 

Behold them white and clean. 
Singing, Glory, glory. 



82 LITTLE OlS^ES IN HEAVEN. 



COMI'DRT. 

* Boatman, boatman ! my brain is wild, 

As "wild as tlie rainy sects ; 
My poor little cMld, my sweet little cMld, 
Is a corpse upon my knees. 

No holy choir to sing so low — 

No priest to kneel in prayer, 
No tire-woman to help me sew 

A cap for his golden hair*'' 

Dropping his oars in the rainy sea, 
The pions boatman cried, 
" Not without Him who is life to thee, 
Could the little child have died ! 

" His grace the same, and the same His powier. 
Demanding our love and trust, 
Whether He makes of the dust a flower. 
Or changes a flower to dust. 

" On the land and the water, all in all, 
The strength to be still, or pray. 
To blight the leaves in their time to fall. 
Or light up the hills with May." 

Alice Carhtst, 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 83 



LEAVE THE EESULT WITH GOD. 

Suppose, now, there shonlcl be a mother, 
always uneasy and soHcitous about her child, 
when it was in health, or sitting over it when 
in sickness, restless and anxious, trying this 
remedy, and that, without reason and without 
hope, just because she cannot give him up ; — 
suppose, I say, that God should come to the 
bedside, and say to her, " Anxious mother, — I 
was taking care of your child, but since you are 
so restless and uneasy about it, I will give the 
case up to you, if you will take it. There is a 
great question to be decided ; — shall that child 
recover, or die ? I was going to decide it in the 
best way for yourself and him. But since you 
cannot trust me, you may decide it yourself. 
Look upon him, then, as he lies there suffering, 
and then look forward as far as you can into 
futurity ; see as much as you can of his life here, 
if you allow him to live ; and look forward to 
eternity, — to Tils eternity and yours. Get all 
the light you can, and then tell me whether you 
are really ready to take the responsibiHty of 
deciding the question, whether he shall live or 
die. Since you are not willing to allow me to 
decide it, I will leave you to decide it yourself." 



84 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 

What would be tlie feelings of a mother, if 
God should thus mthdraw from the sick bed of 
her child, and leave the responsibility of the 
case in her hands alone ! Who would dare to 
exercise the power, if the power were given, or 
say to a dying child, " you shall live, and on me 
shall be the responsibility ? " Then let us all 
leave to God to decide. Let us be wise, and 
prudent, and faithful in all our duties, but 
never, for a moment, indulge in an -anxious 
thought ; — it is rebellion. Let us rather throw 
ourselves on God. Let us say to Him, that we 
do not know what is best, either for us, or our 
children, and ask Him to do with us just as He 
pleases. Then we shall be at peace at all times, 
— when disease makes its first attack, — when 
the critical hours approach, by which the ques- 
tion of life or death is to be decided, and even 
when the last night of the little patient's suffer- 
ings has come, and we see the vital powers 
gradually sinking, in their fearful struggle with 

death. 

Jacob Abbott. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 85 



RESIGNATION. 

There Is no flock, however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there ! 
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, 

But has one vacant chair ! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead : 
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying. 

Will not be comforted ! 

Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions 

Not from the ground arise, 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark disguise. 

We see but dimly through the mist and vapors ; 

Amid these earthly damps. 
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers, 

May be heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! what seems so is transition ; 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose portal we call Death. 



86 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN". 

She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — 

But gone unto that school 
Where she no longer needs our poor protection, 

And Christ himself doth rule. 

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, 

By guardian angels led, 
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, 

She lives, whom we call dead. 

Day after day we think what she is doing 

In those bright realms of air ; 
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 

Behold her grown more fair. 

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken 

The bond which nature gives, 
Thinking that our remembrance, though un- 
spoken, 

May reach her where she lives. 

Not as a child shall we again behold her ; 

For w^hen with raptures wild 
In our embraces we again enfold her, 

She will not be a child ; 

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, 

Clothed with celestial grace ; 
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion 

Shall we behold her face. 



LITTLE OXES IX HEAVEN". 87 

And though at times impetuous with emotion 

And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelhng heart heaves moaning like the 
ocean 

That cannot be at rest — 

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 

We may not wholly stay ; 
By silence sanctifying, not concealing, 

The grief that must have way. 

Longfellow. 



YES, AS A CHILD. 

" Not as a child shall we again behold her." 

Lon^ellow, 

O, SAY not so ! how shall I know my darling, 
If changed her form, and veil'd with shining hair? 
If, since her flight, has grown my little starling, 

How shall I know her there ? 
On memory's page, by viewless fingers painted, 
I see the features of my angel-child ; 
She passed away, ere sin her soul had tainted — 

Passed to the undefiled. 

O, say not so ! for I would clasp her, even 
As when below she lay upon my breast : 



88 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

And dream of her as my fair bud in Heaven, 

Amid the blossoms blest. 
My little one was like a folded lily, 
Sweeter than any on the azure wave ; 
But night came down, a starless night, and chilly; 

Alas ! we could not save ! 

Yes, as a child, serene and noble poet, 

(O, Heaven were dark, were children wanting 

there !) 
I hope to clasp my bud as when I wore it ; 

A dimpled baby fair. 
Though years have flown, toward my blue-eyed 

daughter 
My heart yearns ofttimes with a mother's love, 
Its never-dying tendrils now enfold her, — 

Enfold my child above. 

E'en as a hahe^ my little blue-eyed daughter, 
Nestle and coo upon my heart again ; 
Wait for thy mother by the river-water, — 

It shall not be in vain ! 
Wait as a child, — how shall I know my darling, 
If changed her form, and veil'd with shining 

hair ? 
If, since her flight, has grown my little starling, 

How shall I know her there ? 

Fanny Eales» 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 89 



TAKEN FROM THE LIFE TO COIME. 

God took thee in his mercy, 
A lamb untasked, untried ; 

He fought the fight for thee, 

He won the victory, 
And thou art sanctified. 

I look around and see 

The evil ways of men. 
And oh ! beloved child, 
I 'm more than reconciled 

To thy departure then. 

The little arms that clasped me. 
The innocent life that pressed. 

Would they have been as pure, 

Till now, as when of yore 
I lulled thee on my breast ? 

Now like a dew drop shrined 

Within a crystal stone, 
Thou 'rt safe in heaven, my dove ! 
Safe with the Source of love, 

The Everlasting One. 
8* 



90 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

And when the hour arrives 
From flesh that sets me free, 

Thy spirit may await 

The first at Heaven's gate 
To meet and welcome me. 

Mrs. Southey. 

THE LITTLE ONE IS DEAD. 

Smooth the hair and close the eyelids, 
Let the window curtains fall ; 

With a smile upon her features, 
She has answered to the call. 

Let the children kiss her gently. 

As she lies upon her bed ; 
God hath called her to his bosom. 

And the little one is dead. 

AN EPITAPH POR AN INFANT. 

Beneath this stone, in soft repose, 

Is laid a mother's dearest pride, 
A flower that scarce had waked to life. 

And light and beauty, ere it died. 
God, in his wisdom, has recalled 

The precious boon Plis love had given, 
And though the casket moulders here, 

The gem is sparkling now in heaven. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 91 



A CHILD IN HEAVEN. 

A CLERGYMAN lost a child. A brother minis- 
ter attended the funeral, and at the close of his 
remarks, the father of the deceased cliild arose, 
and spoke as follows to his people who were 
present : " When I have sought to minister to 
you consolation in the times of your affliction, 
weeping with you over your dying children, 
you have often said to me that I knew nothing 
of the anguish, and could not sympathize with 
you in your loss. I feel it now. I never did 
before." Then he directed them to the source 
of his comfort and support, and invited all to 
the fountain of living waters. His house stood 
on a hill-side, overlooking a beautiful river, 
on the other side of which were luxurious fields. 
Alluding to this, he continued, " Often, as I have 
stood on the borders of this stream, and looked 
over to the fair fields on the other shore, I have 
felt but little interest in the people or the place 
in full view before me. The river separates 
me from them, and my thoughts and aifections 
were here. But a few months ago, one of my 
children moved across to the other side, and 
took up his residence there. Since that time, 
my heart has been there also. In the morning, 



92 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

when I rise and look out toward the east, I 
think of my child who is over there, and again 
and again through the day I think of him, and 
the other side of the river is always in my 
thoughts, with the child who has gone there 
to dwell. And now, since another of my child- 
ren has crossed the river of death, and has gone 
to dwell on the other side, my heart is drawn 
out towards heaven, and the inhabitants of 
heaven, as it was never drawn before. I sup- 
posed that heaven was dear to me; that my 
Father was there, and my friends were there, 
and that I had a great interest in heaven, but 
I Jiad no child there ; now I have ; and I never 
think and never shall think of heaven, but with 
the memory of that dear child who is to be 
among its inhabitants for ever." 

WHY CHILDEEN DIE. 

I HAVE seen persons who gather from the 
parterre their choicest flowers, just as they be- 
gin to open into full bloom and fragrance, lest 
some passer-by should tear them from the bush 
and destroy them. Does not God sometimes 
gather into heaven young and innocent child- 
ren for the same reason — lest some rude hand 
may despoil them of their beauty ? 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 93 

THE DYING CHILD. 

Mother, I 'm tired, and I would fain be sleep- 
ing; 

Let me repose upon thy bosom seek ; 
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping, 

Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek. 
Here it is cold ; the tempest raveth madly ; 

But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright ; 
I see the angel children smiling gladly. 

When from my weary eyes I shut the light. 

Mother, one steals beside me now ! and listen ; 

Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord ? 
See how his white wings beautifully glisten ! 

Surely those wings were given him by our 
Lord! 
Green, gold, and red are floating all around me; 

These are the flowers the angel scattereth : 
Shall I have also wings whilst life has bound me ? 

Or, mother, are they given alone in death ? 

Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going ? 

Why dost thou press thy cheek thus unto 
mine ? 
Thy cheek is hot, and still thy tears are flowing ; 

I will, dear mother, will be always thine I 



94 LITTLE ONES TN HEAVENo 

Do not sigh thus, — it marreth my reposing ; 
And if thou weep, then I must weep with 
thee 1 
Oh, I am tired, — my weary eyes are closing ; 
Look, mother, look ! the angel kisseth me ! 

From the Danish op Anderson 



THE PLAYTHINGS. 

Oh I mother, here 's the very top 

That brother used to spin, — 
The vase with seeds I Ve seen him drop 

To call our robin in, - — 
The line that held his pretty kite, 

His bow, his cup and ball, — 
The slate on which he learned to write, 

His feather, cap, and all I 

My dear, I 'd put the things away. 

Just where they were before : 
Go, Anna, take him out to play ; 

And shut the closet door. 
Sweet innocent ! he little thinks 

The slightest thought expressed, 
Of him that 's lost, how deep it sinks 

Within a mother^s breast. 

H» F. Gould, 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 95 



THE THEEE LITTLE GKAVES. 

I SOUGHT at twiliglit's pensive hour 

The path which mourners tread, 
Where many a marble stone reveals 

The city of the dead ; — 
The city of the dead, where all 

From feverish toil repose, 
While round their beds, the simple flower 

In sweet profusion blows. 

And there I marked a pleasant spot 

Enclosed with tender care, 
Where side by side three infants lay, 

The only tenants there ; 
Nor weed, nor bramble raised its head 

To mar the hallowed scene, 
And 't was a mother's tears, me thought, 

Which kept that turf so green. 

The eldest was a gentle girl, 

She sunk as rose-buds fall, 
And then two little brothers came, 

They were their parents' all, — 
Their parents' all ! — and ah, how oft 

The moan of sickness rose, 
Before, within these narrow mounds, 

They found a long repose. 



96 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Their cradle-sports beside the hearth, 

At winter's eve, are o'er ; 
Their tuneful tones, so full of mirth, 

Delight the ear no more : — 
Yet still the thrilling echo lives, 

And manj a lisping word 
Is treasured in affection's heart, 

By grieving memory stirred. 

Three little graves ! — Three little graves ! 

Come hither ye who see 
Your blooming babes around you smile, 

A blissful company, — 
And of those childless parents think. 
With sympathizing pain, 
. And soothe them with a Saviour's words, 
" Your dead shall rise again." 

Mrs. L. H. Sigourney 



OUR LAMBS. 

The tender Shepherd beckoningly 

Our Lambs doth hold, 
That we may take our own when He 

Makes up the fold. 

Gerald Massby. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 97 



THE SERAPH CHILD. 

The following lines were written by Daniel Webster 
in 1825, on the death of a son three years of age, and were 
enclosed in a letter to his wife : 

My son, thou wast my heart's delight, 
Thy morn of life was ga}^ and cheery ; 

That morn has rushed to sudden night, 
Thy father's house is sad and dreary. 

I held thee on my knee, my son ! 

And kissed thee laughing, kissed thee weeping; 
But ah ! thy little day is done. 

Thou 'rt with my angel sister sleeping. 

The staff on which my years should lean 
Is broken, ere those years come o'er me : 

My funeral rites thou should'st have seen, 
But thou art in thy tomb before me. 

Thou rearest to me no filial stone, 

No parent's grave with tears beholdest ; 

Thou art my ancestor, my son ! 

And stand'st in Heaven's account the oldest. 

On earth my lot was soonest cast, 

Thy generation after mine ; 
Thou hast thy predecessor past ; 

Earlier eternity is thine. 
9 



98 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

I should have set before thine eyes 

The road to heaven, and showed it clear ; 

But thou untaught spring'st to the skies, 
And leav'st thy teacher lingering here. 

Sweet seraph, I would learn of thee, 
And hasten to partake thy bliss ! 

And oh ! to thy world welcome me, 
As first I welcomed thee to this. 

Dear angel, thou art safe in Heaven ; 

No prayer for thee need more be made ; 
Oh ! let thy prayer for those be given 

Who oft have blessed thy infant head. 

My father ! I beheld thee born. 

And led thy tottering steps with care ; 

Before me risen to heaven's bright mom, 
My son ! my father ! guide me there. 



EPITAPH. 

Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade. 
Death came with friendly care, 

The opening bud to heaven conveyed. 
And bade it blossom there. 

COLEBIDG38. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 99 



OUR BABY. 

To-day we cut the fragrant sod, 

With trembling hands, asunder, 
And lay this well beloved of God, 

Our dear dead baby, under. 
Oh, hearts that ache, and ache afresh ! 

Oh, tears too blindly raining ! 
Our hearts are weak, yet, being flesh, 

Too strong for our restraining ! 

Sleep, darling, sleep ! Cold rains shall steep 

Thy little turf-made dwelling ; 
Thou wilt not know — so far below — 

What winds or storms are swelling ; 
And birds shall sing, in the warm spring. 

And flowers bloom about thee : 
Thou wilt not heed them, love, but oh, 

The loneliness without thee ! 

Father, we will be comforted I 

Thou wast the gracious giver : 
We yield her up — not dead, not dead — 

To dwell with Thee forever ! 
Take Thou our child ! Ours for a day^ 

Thine, while the ages blossom I 
This little shining head we lay 

In the Redeemer's bosom ! 



100 LITTLE OISTES IN HEAVEN. 



ON THE DEATH OF A EKIEND^S CHILD. 

Death never came so nlgli to me before, 
Nor showed me his mild face : oft had I mused, 
Of calm and peace and deep forgetfulness, 
Of folded hands, closed eyes, and heart at rest, 
And slumber sound beneath a flowery turf, 
Of faults forgotten, and an inner place 
Kept sacred for us in the heart of friends ; 
But these were idle fancies, satisfied 
With the mere husk of this great mystery, 
And dwellins^ in the outward shows of thino;s. 
Heaven is not mounted to on wings of dreams, 
Nor doth the unthankful happiness of youth 
Aim thitherward, but floats from bloom to bloom, 
With earth's warm patch of sunshine well con- 
tent : 
'T is sorrow builds the shining ladder up. 
Whose golden rounds are our calamities, 
Whereon our firm feet planting, nearer God 
The spirit climbs, and hath its eyes unsealed. 

True is it that Death's face seems stern and 

cold. 
When he is sent to summon those we love, 
But all God's angels come to us disguised ; 
Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, 
One after other lift their frowning masks, 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 101 

And we behold the seraph's face beneath, 

All radiant with the glory and the calm 

Of having looked upon the front of God. 

With every anguish of our earthly part 

The spirit's sight grows clearer ; this was meant 

When Jesus touched the blind man's lids with 

clay. 
Life is the jailer, Death the angel sent 
To draw the unwilling bolts and set us free* 
He flings not ope the ivory gate of Kest, — 
Only the fallen spirit knocks at that, — 
But to benio^ner reojions beckons us 
To destinies of more rewarded toil. 
In the hushed chamber, sitting by the dead, 
It grates on us to hear the flood of life 
Whirl rustling onward, senseless of our loss. 
The bee hums on ; around the blossomed vine 
Whirs the light humming-bird ; the cricket 

chirps ; 
The locust's shrill alarum stings the ear ; 
Hard by, the cock shouts lustily ; from farm to 

farm. 
His cheery brothers, telling of the sun. 
Answer, till far away the joyance dies . 
We never knew before how God had filled 
The summer air with happy, living sounds ; 
All round us seems an overplus of life ; 
And yet the one dear heart lies cold and still. 
9* 



102 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

It Is most strange, when the great miracle 

Hath for our sakes been done, when we have had 

Our inwardest experience of God, 

When with his presence still the room expands, 

And is awed after him, that naught is changed, 

That Nature's face looks unacknowledginjr, 

And the mad world still dances heedless on 

After its butterflies, and gives no sign. 

'T is hard at first to see it all aright ; 

In vain Faith blows her trump to summon back 

Her scattered troop ; yet, through the clouded 

glass 
Of our own bitter tears, we learn to look 
Undazzled on the kindness of God's face ; 
Earth is too dark, and Heaven alone shines 

through. 

It is no little thing, when a fresh soul 

And a fresh heart, with their unmeasured scope 

For good, not gravitating earthward yet, 

But circling in diviner periods, 

Are sent into the world, — no little thing, 

When this unbounded possibility 

Into the outer silence is withdrawn. 

Ah, in this world, where every guiding thread 

Ends suddenly in the one sure centre, death, 

The visionary hand of Might-have-been 

Alone can fill Desire's cup to the brim ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 103 

How changed, dear friend, are thy part and thy 

child's ! 
He bends over thy cradle now, or holds 
His warning finger out to be thy guide ; 
Thou art the nursling now ; he watches thee 
Slow learning, one by one, the secret things 
Which are to him used sights of every day 
He smiles to see thy wondering glances con 
The grass and pebbles of the spirit-world, 
To thee miraculous ; and he will teach 
Thy knees their due observances of prayer. 

Children are God's apostles, day by day 

Sent forth to teach of love, and hope, and 

peace ; 
Nor hath thy babe his mission left undone. 
To me, at least, his going hence hath given 
Serener thoughts and nearer to the skies. 
And opened a new fountain in my heart 
For thee, my friends, and all : and O, if Death 
More near approaches, meditates, and clasps 
Even now some dearer, more reluctant hand, 
God, strengthen Thou my faith, that I may see 
That 't is Thine angel, who, with loving haste, 
Unto the service of the inner shrine 
Doth waken Thy beloved with a kiss I 

J. R. Lowell. 



104 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



TO A CHRISTIAN FATHER. 

Again in the furnace, my brother ! Again 
lamenting under the chastenings of God ! My 
heart bleeds with yours, I pour out my tears 
and supplications that this new and sore visit- 
ing may be blessed, and may afterwards yield 
the peaceable fruits of righteousness. It shall 
be so. It is so, in some measure, already. 
Whatever brings us to the feet of our Re- 
deemer, does us good. He is the Physician, 
and he knows best how to make up the pre- 
scription, and how to administer it. He has 
taken away your boy, but not Himself, nor his 
loving kindnesses. He has shown you the rod, 
but not the evil it has avoided. He has made 
you to smart under the stroke, but it is, proba- 
bly, a substitute for some blow unspeakably 
more awful, and perhaps nigh at hand when 
He smote you, but now turned aside forever. 
We must live by faitli^ my brother. Our com- 
forts must not be our gods. Our souls have 
neither purity, nor peace, nor establishment, 
nor victory, but in proportion as our fellowship 
is with the Lord our life, and our life-giving 
head. O, for that habitual nearness to Him 
which shall keep us in constant and gracious de- 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 105 

pendence upon His word of truth, which He has 

promised never to take utterly from us. The 

further the creature removes from us, the more 

desirable and consoling is our walking with 

Him who, when we are overwhelmed, knows 

our path. 

Eev. J. M. Masojs^ d. d. 



TO A CHRISTIAN MOTHER. 

Have you lost two lovely children ? Did 
you make them your idols ? If you did, God 
has saved you from idolatry. If you did not, 
you have your God still, and a creature can- 
not be miserable, who has a God. The little 
words " My God," have infinitely more sweet- 
ness than "my sons" or "my daughters." Were 
they very desirable blessings ? Your God calls 
you to the nobler sacrifice. Can you give up 
these to Him at His call ? So was Isaac, when 
Abraham was required to part with him at 
God's altar. Are you not a daughter of Abra- 
ham ? Then imitate his faith, his self-denial, 
his obedience, and make your evidences of 
such a spiritual relation to him shine brighter 
on this solemn occasion. Has God taken them 
from your arms ? And had you not given them 
to God before ? Are you displeased that God 



106 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

calls for His own ? Was not your heart sin- 
cere in the resignation of them ? Show then, 
madam, the sincerity of your heart in leaving 
them in the hand of God. Do you say, the^ 
are lost? Not out of God's sight, and God's 
world, though they are gone out of your sight 
and our world. " All live to God." You may 
hope the spreading covenant of grace has shel- 
tered them from the second death. They live, 
though not with you. 

Are you ready to complain, you have brought 
forth for the grave ? It may be so, but not in 
vain. Is. 64: 25. — "They shall not labor in 
vain, nor bring forth for trouble (i. e. for sor- 
row without hope) ; for they are the seed of the 
blessed of the Lord, and their - offspring with 
them." This has been a sweet text to many a 
mother, when their children are called away 

betimes. 

Dr. Watts. 

REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD. 

We are forbidden to murmur, but we are not 
forbidden to regret ; and whom we loved tenderly 
while living, we may still pursue with an affec- 
tionate remembrance, without having any occa- 
sion to charge ourselves with rebellion against 
the sovereignty that appointed a separation. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 107 



THE DEAD CHILD. 

Few things appear so beautiful as a young 
child in its shroud. The little innocent face 
looks so sublimely simple and confiding among 
the cold terrors of death. Crimeless and fear- 
less that little mortal has passed alone under 
the shadow. There is death in its sublimest 
and purest image ; no hatred, no hypocrisy, no 
suspicion, no care for the morrow, ever darkened 
that little face ; death has come lovingly upon 
it; there is nothing cruel or harsh in its victory. 
The yearnings of love indeed cannot be stifled ; 
for the prattle and smile — all the little world of 
thoughts, that were so delightful — are gone for- 
ever. Awe, too, will overcast us in its presence, 
for the lonely voyager ; for the child has gone, 
simple and trusting, into the presence of an all- 
wise Father ; and of such, we know, is the king- 
dom of heaven. 



NOT IN VAIN. 

Oh, not in vain thy life ! Thou hast not sown. 
Yet the rich harvest reapest as thy own ; 
Thou hast not fought, but thou hast won the prize, 
Hast never borne the cross, yet gained the skies. 



108 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 



THE LOST LAMB. 

Lost lamb ! there is a starry fold 

Where innocence is safe forever : 
There chilling frosts and wintry cold 
Find entrance never. 

Far from this sphere of doubt and gloom 

The folding arms of love are round thee ; 
With flowers of everlasting bloom 

Have angels crowned thee. 

Sweet, perished bud of promise rare ! 

Through cloud-rifts in the gloom impending, 
Streams light to comfort our despair, 
The darkness rending. 

Safe from the troubles that molest 

Earth's pilgrim toward the sunset hieing, 
On the good Shepherd's tender breast 
Our lamb is lying. 

If earnest prayer could bring him back, 

I would not plead for his returning, 
Where dimly, in the midnight black, 
Hope's star is burning — 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 109 

Where Sorrow, with a trembling hand, 

The death-dimmed eye of Beauty closes, 
And Love goes mourning, through the land. 
For her lost roses. 

W. H. C. HOSMER. 

THE riRST-BORN. 

We laid thee down in sinless rest, and from 

thine infant brow 
Culled one soft lock of radiant hair — our only 

solace now, — 
Then placed around thy beauteous corse, flowers, 

not more fair and sweet ; 
Twin rosebuds in thy little hands, and jasmine 

at thy feet. 

Though other offspring still be ours, as fair per- 
chance as thou, 

With all the beauty of thy cheek — the sunshine 
of thy brow. 

They never can replace the bud our early fond- 
ness nurst. 

They may be lovely and beloved, but not like 
thee — the first ! 

The first ! How many a memory bright that 

one sweet word can bring 
Of hopes that blossomed, drooped, and died, in 

life's delightful spring ; 
10 



110 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Of fervid feelings passed away — those early- 
seeds of bliss, 

That germinate in hearts unseared by such a 
world as this ! 

My sweet one, my sweet one, my fairest, and 

my first ! 
When I think of what thou might'st have been, 

my heart is like to burst ; 
But gleams of gladness through the gloom their 

soothing radiance dart, 
And my sighs are hushed, my tears are dried,. 

when I turn to what thou art ! 

m 
Pure as the snow-flake ere it falls and takes the 

stain of earth. 
With not a taint of mortal life, except the 

mortal birth, — 
God bade thee early taste the spring for which 

so many thirst ; 

And bliss — eternal bliss — is thine, my fairest, 

and my first ! 

Alaeio a. Watts. 



LITTLE ONES LN HEAVEN. Ill 



THINK THAT YOUR BABE IS THERE. 

Ye who mourn 
T^Tiene'er yon vacant cradle, or the robes 
That decked the lost one's form, call back a tide 
Of alienated joy, can ye not trust 
Your treasure to His arms,whose changeless care 
Passeth a mother's love ? Can ye not hope, 
When a few wasting years their course have run. 
To go to him, though he no more on earth 
Returns to you ? 

And when glad faith doth catch 
Some echo of celestial harmonies, 
Archangels' praises, with the high response 
Of cherubim, and seraphim, O think — 
Your babe is there ! mrs. L. H. Sigourxey. 

"I SHALL GO TO HIM, BUT HE SHALL 
NOT RETURN TO ME/' 

While sickness rent thine infant frame, 

Before our God we wept and prayed ; 
But when His heavenly summons came, 

Fond nature struggled, and obeyed. 
We laid thee in thy early rest, 

And changed the burden of our prayer: 
May He who took thee to the blest, 

But make thee our forerunner there ! 



112 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THOUGHT AT A CHH^D^S GRAVE. 

'T IS the work 
Of many a dark hour, and of many a prayer, 
To bring the heart back from an infant gone ! 
Hope must give o'er, and busy fancy blot 
Its images from all the silent rooms, 
And every sight and sound familiar to her 
Undo its sweetest link ; and so, at last. 
The fountain that, once loosed, must flow forever, 
Will hide and waste in silence. When the smile 
Steals to her pallid lip again, and spring 
Wakens its buds above thee, we will come, 
And, standing by thy music-haunted grave, 
Look on each other cheerfully, and say, 
A child that we have loved is gone to heaven j 
And hy this gate of flowers she passed away ! 

Willis. 

THE ONLY CHILD. 

Pretty boy ! 
He was my only cliild *, how fair he looked, 
In the white garment that encircled him ! 
'T was lilce a marble slumber, and when we 
Laid him beneath the green earth in his bed, 
I thought my heart was breaking : yet I lived, 
But I am wear-'^ now. Barry Cornwall. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 113 



SOWING IN TEARS. 

Straight and still the baby lies. 
No more smiling in his eyes, 
Neither tears nor wailing cries. 

Smiles and tears alike are done : 
He has need of neither one — 
Only I must weep alone. 

Tiny fingers, all too slight, 
Hold within their grasping tight, 
Waxen berries scarce more white. 

Nights and days of weary pain, 
I have held them close — in vain 5 
Now I never shall again. 

Crossed upon a silent breast, 
By no sufiering distressed. 
Here they lie in marble rest. 

They shall ne'er unfolded be, 
Never more in agony 
Cling so pleadingly to me. 

Never ! O, the hopeless sound 
To my heart, so closely wound 
All his Uttle being round ! 
10* 



114 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 

I forget the sLlning crown, 

Giad exchange for cross laid down, 

Now his baby brows upon. 

Yearning sore, I only know 
I am very full of woe — 
And I want my baby so ! 

Selfish heart, that thou shouldst prove 
So unworthy of the love 
'\Yhich thine idol doth remove ! 

Blinded eyes, that cannot see, 

Past the present misery, 

Joy and comfort full and free ! 

! my Father, loving Lord ! 

1 am ashamed at my own word ; 
Strength and patience me afford. 

I wiU yield me to Thy will ; 
Now Thy purposes fulfil ; 
Only help me to be still. 

Though my mother-heart shall ache, 
I believe that, for Thy sake, 
It shall not entirely break. 

And I know I yet shall own, 
For my seeds of sorrow sown. 
Sheaves of joy around Thy throne ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 115 



DEATH AND THE MOTHEE. 

Death to the motlier said, 

" Thou canst not keep the baby still, let me ! 

Thou mark'st with pain his gasping, feverish 

breath ; 
With one long kiss I set it free, 
And on his brow the signet write 
Of immortality ! 
Oft thou dost strive to lay 
In smoothness down his golden hair : let me I 
Smoother beneath thy touch 't will never be, 
Nor look more bright and fair ! 
Nay, weep not, that his toilet I would make. 
Closing like violet up his eyes of blue ; 
For know'st thou not, earth-flowers as frail as 

this 
Were better closed against life's chilling dew ? 
The sheet no more thou 'It fold. 
Above his dimpled limbs over and o'er ; 
So statue like, inanimate and cold. 
They will lie bare no more ! 
The form that holds thy baby to His breast 
Thou wilt not look to see ! 
Nor hear'st the soft voice breaking through his 

rest, 
* Suffer the little one to come to Me ! ' 



116 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Else thou and I would soon be reconciled. 

No more thy tears would flow — 

But thou would'st bless me that I bear thy child 

Forth from a life of woe 

To One unbiased by a mother's love 

Or mother's fears, to bring him up ! 

Perchance to aid thee when thou goest above ! 

Then push me from the still, the sweet, sad 



cup!' 



Miss Lydia L. A. Vert. 



THE INFAKT'S GKAVE. 

Sleep, little cherub ! on the breast 
Of the green hillock take thy rest ; 
The wintry snow, the dropping rain, 
Shall dash above thy head in vain ; 
The beaded hail, the cutting sleet. 
Unheeded o'er thy head shall beat ; 
The spring-buds o'er thee will renew 
Their blooming sweets and vernal hue ; 
And honeyed flowers shall o'er thee spring, 
And birds their dulcet measures sing. 

I. McLellan. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 117 

TWO IN HEAYEN. 

" You have two children," said I. 

"I have four," was the reply — "two on 
earth, two in heaven." 

There spoke the mother! Still hers, only- 
gone before ! Still remembered, loved and 
cherished, by the hearth and at the board — 
their places not yet filled, even though their 
successors draw life from the same faithful 
breast where their dying heads were pillowed. 

" Two in Heaven 1 " 

Safely housed from storm and tempest. No 
sickness there, nor drooping head, nor fading 
eye, nor weary feet. By green pastures, tended 
by the good Shepherd, linger the little lambs 
of the heavenly fold* 

"Two in Heaven!" 

Earth less attractive. Eternity nearer. In- 
visible cords drawing the maternal soul up- 
wards. " Still small voices" ever whisper 
" Come ! " to the world-weary spirit. 

"Two in Heaven!" 

Mother of angels ! Walk softly ! Holy- 
eyes watch thy footsteps ! Cherub forms bend 
to listen ! Keep thy spirits free from earth's 
taint ; so shalt thou go to them, though they 
may not return to thee. 



118 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE EMPTY CEADLE. 

She sits beside the cradle, 

And her tears are streaming fast, 
For she sees the present only, 

While she thinks of all the past ; 
Of the days so full of gladness, 

When her first-born's answering kiss 
Filled her soul with such a rapture 

That it knew no other bliss. 
O ! those happy, happy moments ! 

They but deepen her despair, 
For she bends above the cradle, 

And her baby is not there ! 

There are words of comfort spoken, 

And the leaden clouds of grief 
Wear the smiling bow of promise. 

And she feels a sad relief ; 
But her wavering thoughts will wander 

Till they settle on the scene 
Of the dark and silent chamber, 

And of all that might have been I 
For a little vacant garment. 

Or a shining tress of hair, 
Tells her heart, in tones of anguish, 

That her baby is not there ! 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN. 119 

She sits beside the cradle, 

But her tears no longer flow, 
For she sees a blessed vision, 

And forgets all earthly woe ; 
Saintly eyes look down upon her, 

And the voice that hushed the sea 
Stills her spirits with the whisper, 

" Suffer them to come to Me." 
And while her soul is hfted 

On the soaring wings of prayer, 
Heaven's crystal gates swung inward, 

And she sees her baby there ! 

Egbert S. Chilton. 



BEREAVEIVIENT. 

O YE who say, " We have a child in heaven ; " 
Who have felt that desolate isolation sharp 
Defined in Death's own face ; who have stood 

beside 
The silent river, and stretched out pleading hands 
For some sweet babe upon the other bank. 
That went forth where no human hand might 

lead. 
And left the shut house with no light, no sound, 
No answer, when the mourners wail ^vithout ! 
What we have known, ye know, and only know. 

Gerald Massey. 



120 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE LAST SMILE. 

O, WHY smiled the babe in its dying hour, 
When its earth-weary days were done ? 

It had faded away hke a blighted flower, 
In the rays of the sunimer*s sun ; 

Love-full was the look of the innocent child. 

So peaceful, so trusting, so sweetly it smiled. 

O, why did it smile ? Had angels down-come 

From the far-oiF sunny-hued land, 
To bear its pure spirit away to its home. 

To join a bright seraphim band ? 
Ah, yes, and they whispered of love and of 

peace, 
Of joys and of pleasures that never will cease. 

J). Hardy, Jr. 



LITTLE GRATES. 

There 's many an empty cradle. 

There 's many a vacant bed, 
There 's many a lonely bosom, 

Whose joy and light are fled ; 
For thick in every graveyard 

The little hillocks lie — 
And every hillock represents 

An angel in the sky. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 121 



SAFE FOR EYERMORE. 

Our beauteous child we laid amidst the silence 

of the dead, 
We heaped the earth and spread the turf above 

the cherub head ; 
We turned again to sunny life, to other ties as 

dear, 
And the world has thought us comforted, when 

we have dried the tear. 

O we have one, and only one, secure in sacred 

trust, 
It is the lone and lovely one that 's sleeping in 

the dust ; 
We fold it in our arms again, we see it by our 

side. 
In the helplessness of innocence which sin has 

never tried. 

All earthly trust, all mortal years, however light 

they fly. 
But darken on the glowing cheek, and dim the 

eagle eye ; 
But there, our bright, un withering flower — our 

spirit's hoarded store — 
We keep through ever}^ chance and change, the 

same for evermore* 
11 



122 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

MY CHILD. 

I CANNOT make Mm dead ! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair ; 

Yet, when my eyes, now dim 

With tears, I turn to him, 
The vision vanishes — he is not there ! 

I walk my parlor floor, 

And through the open door 
I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ; 

I 'm stepping toward the hall, 

To give the boy a call ; 
And then bethink me that — he is not there ! 

I tread the crowded street ; 

A satcheird lad I meet, 
With the same beaming eyes and colored hair ; 

And, as he 's running by, 

Follow him with my eye, 
Scarcely believing that — he is not there ! 

I know his face is hid 

Under the coffin-lid ; 
Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair : 

My hand that marble felt ; 

O'er it in prayer I knelt ; 
Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there ! 



LITTLE ONES IN" HEAYEN. 123 

I cannot make him dead ! 

^Vhen passing by the bed, 
So long watched over with parental care, 

My spirit and my eye 

Seek it inquiringly, 
Before the thought comes that — he is not there ! 

When at the cool, gray break 
Of day, from sleep I wake. 

With my first breathing of the morning air 
My soul goes up, with joy. 
To Him who gave my boy ; 

Then comes the sad thought that — he is not 
there ! 

T\nien at the day's calm close, 

Before we seek repose, 
I 'm with his mother, offering up our prayer, 

Whatever I may be saying^ 

I am, in spirit, praying 
For our boy's spirit, though — he is not there ! 

Not there ! — Where then is he ? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear : 

The grave, that now doth press 

Upon that cast-off dress. 
Is but his wardrobe locked ; — lie is not there ! 



124 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

He lives ! — In all the past 

He lives ; nor to the last, 
Of seeing hiim again will I despair : 

In dreams I see him now ; 

And, on his angel brow, 
I see it written, " Thou shalt see me there ! " 

Yes, we all live to God ! 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear, 

That, in the spirit land, 

Meeting, at thy right hand, 
'T will be our heaven to find that — he is there ! 
Eev. John Fierpont. 



THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER. 

In some rude spot, where vulgar herbage grows, 

If chance a violet rear its purple head. 
The careful gard'ner moves it ere it blows. 
To thrive and flourish in a nobler bed. 
Such was thy fate, dear child. 
Thy opening such ! 
Pre-eminence in early bloom was shown, 
For earth too good, perhaps. 
And loved too much — 
Heav'n saw, and early marked thee for its own ! 

K. B. Sheeidan. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 125 

MAETIN LUTHER AND HIS DYING 
DAUGHTER. 

Luther was called to part with Magdalen at 
tlie ao^e of fourteen. She was a most endearinor 
child, and united the firmness and perseverance 
of the father, with the gentleness and delicacy 
of the mother. When she grew very ill, Lu- 
ther said, " Dearly do I love her I but, O my 
God, if it be Thy will to take her hence, I re- 
sign her to Thee without a murmur.** 

He then approached the bed, and said to her, 
" My dear little daughter, my beloved Mag- 
dalen, you would willingly remain with your 
earthly father ; but, if God calls you, you will 
also willingly go to your Heavenly Father." 

She replied, " Yes, dear father ; it is as God 
pleases." 

" Dear little girl," he exclaimed, " O how I 
love her ! The spirit is willing, but the flesh is 
weak." 

He then took the Bible and read to her the 
passage in Isaiah : " Thy dead men shall live, 
together with my dead body shall they arise. 
Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust, for thy 
dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall 
cast out the dead." 

11*. 



126 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

He then said, " My daughter, enter thou into 
thy resting-place in peace." 

She turned her dying eyes towards him, and 
said, with touching simplicity, " Yes, father." 

The night preceding her death, Catharine,* 
worn out with watching, reclined her head on 
the sick-bed and slept. When she awoke, she 
appeared much agitated ; and, as soon as Philip 
Melanchthon arrived, she hastened to him and 
told him her dream. 

"I saw two young men, who seemed to be 
clad in robes of light, enter the room. I 
pointed to Magdalen, who lay quietly sleeping, 
and made a sign to them not to disturb her ; 
but they said they came to conduct her to the 
bridal ceremony." 

Melanchthon was much moved, and after- 
wards said to his wife, " These were holy an- 
gels, that Catharine saw in her dream; and 
they will conduct the virgin to her bridal in 
the celestial kingdom." 

When her last moments were near, she raised 
her eyes tenderly to her parents, and begged 
them not to weep for her. " I go," said she, 
" to my Father in heaven," and a sweet smile 
irradiated her dying countenance. Luther 
threw himself upon his knees, weeping bit- 

* The child's mother. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 127 

terly, and fervently prayed God to spare her 
to them; — in a few moments she expired in 
the arms of her father. Catharine, unequal to 
repressing the agony of her sorrow, was at a 
little distance, perhaps unable to witness the 
last, long-drawn breath. When the scene was 
closed, Luther repeated fervently, " The will of 
God be done ! — yes, she has gone to her Father 
in heaven." Philip Melanchthon, who, with his 
wife, was present, said, "Parental love is an 
image of the Divine love impressed on the 
hearts of men ; — God does not love the be- 
ings he has created less than parents love their 
children." 

When they were about putting the child into 
the coffin, the father said, "Dear little Mag- 
dalen, I see thee now hfeless, but thou wilt 
shine in the heavens as a star ! I am joyous 
in spirit, but in the flesh most sorrowful. It is 
wonderful to realize that she is happy, — better 
taken care of, — and yet to be so sad." 

Then turning to the mother, who was bitterly 
weeping, he said, " Dear Catharine, remember 
where she is gone, — ah, she has made a blessed 
exchange. The heart bleeds, without doubt; 
it is natural that it should ; but the spirit, the 
inamortal spirit, rejoices. Happy are those who 
die young ; — children do not doubt,-— they be- 
lieve; with them all is trust; — they fall asleep." 



128 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

When the funeral took place, and the people 
•were assembled to convey the body to its last 
home, some friends said they sympathized with 
him in his affliction. *'Be not sorrowful for 
me,** he replied; "I have sent a saint to heaven. 

may we all die such a death ! Gladly would 

1 accept it now ! " 

When they began to chant, " Lord, remem- 
ber not our ancient sins," Luther said, "Not 
only our ancient, but our present sins." 

To his friend Justus Jonas, he soon after 
wrote the following letter ; 

" September 23, 1542. 
" I doubt not thou hast heard of the birth of 
my little Magdalen into the kingdom of Christ. 
My wife and I ought only to think of rendering 
thanks for her happy transition and peaceful 
end ; — for by it she has escaped the power of 
the flesh, the world, the Turks,* and the devil ; 
— yet nature is strong, and I cannot support 
this event without tears and groans, or, to speak 
more truly, without a broken heart. On my 
very soul are engraved the looks, the words, the 
gestures, — during her life, and on the bed of 
death, — of my obedient, my loving child ! Even 
the death of Christ (and what are all deaths in 
comparison with that ? ) cannot turn away my 
thoui^hts from hers as it ought. She was, as 
thou knowest, lovely in her character, and full 
of tenderness. Luther's Christmas Tree. 

* At this time there was great apprehensionfrom the 
war with the Turks. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 129 



DIRGE OF A CHILD. 

No bitter tears for thee be shed, 
Blossom of being ! seen and gone ! 

With flowers alone we strew thy bed, 
O blest departed one ! 

Whose all of life, a rosy ray. 

Blushed into dawn, and passed away. 

Yes ! thou art fled, ere guilt had power 
To stain thy cherub soul and form ; 

Closed is the soft ephemeral flower, 
That never felt a storm ! 

The sun-beam's smile, the zephyr's breath, 

All that it knew from birth to death. 

Thou wert so like a form of light, 

That Heaven benignly called thee hence 

Ere yet the world could breathe one blight 
O'er thy sweet innocence : 

And thou, that brighter home to bless, 

Art passed with all thy loveliness ! 

Oh, hadst thou still on earth remained, 
Vision of beauty ! fair, as brief ! 

How soon thy brightness had been stained 
With passion or with grief ! 

Now not a sullying breath can rise 

To dim thy glory in the skies. 



130 LITTLE ONES IN HEATEN. 

We rear no marble o'er thy tomb, 

No sculptured image there shall mourn ; 

Ah ! fitter far the vernal bloom 
Such dwelling to adorn. 

Fragrance, and flowers, and dews, must be 

The only emblems meet for thee. 

Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, 

Adorned with nature's brightest wreath; 

Each glowing season shall combine 
Its incense there to breathe ; 

And oft upon the midnight air, 

Shall viewless harps be murmuring there. 

And oh ! sometimes in visions blest, 
Sweet spirit ! visit our repose. 

And bear from thine own world of rest, 
Some balm for human woes ! 

What form more lovely could be given 

Than thine, as messenger of Heaven ? 

Mks Hemaijs. 



Not for the babe that sleepeth here 
My tears bestow, my sorrows give, — 

Pass on, and weep with grief sincere 
For those who innocence outlive. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 131 



THE LENT JEWELS. 

In schools of msdom all the day was spent : 
His steps at eve the Kabbi homeward bent, 
With homeward thoughts which dwelt upon the 

wife 
And two fair children who consoled his life. 
She, meeting at the threshold, led him in, 
And, with these words preventing, did begin: — 

" Ever rejoicing at your wished return, 
Yet am I most so now ; for since this mom 
I have been much perplexed and sorely tried 
Upon one point which you shall now decide. 
Some years ago, a friend into my care 
Some jewels gave — rich, precious gems they 

were ; 
But having given them in my charge, this friend 
Did afterward nor come for them, nor send, 
But left them in my keeping for so long, 
That now it almost seems to me a wrong 
That he should suddenly arrive to-day, 
To take those jewels, which he left, away. 
What think you ? Shall I freely yield them 

back. 
And with no murmuring, — so henceforth to lack 
Those gems myself, which I had learned to see 
Almost as mine forever, mine in fee ? *' 



132 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

"What question can be here? Your own 

true heart 
Must needs advise you of the only part : 
That may be claimed again which was but lent, 
And should be yielded with no discontent. 
Nor surely can we find herein a wrong, 
That it was left us to enjoy so long." 

" Good is the word," she answered ; " may we 

now 
And ever more that it Is good allow ! " 
And, rising, to an inner chamber led, 
And there she showed him, stretched upon one 

bed, 
Two children pale ! and he the jewels knew, 
Which God had lent him, and resumed anew. 

K. C. Trench. 



AN INFANTAS EPITAPH. 

Beneath this stone an infant lies, 

To earth her body 's lent : 
More glorious she '11 hereafter rise, 

Though not more innocent. 

When the archangel's trump shall blow, 

And souls to bodies join. 
Millions will wish their lives below 

Had been as short as thine. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 133 



O MOUEN NOT, FOND MOTHER, 

O MOURN not, fond mother, the joys that de- 
part, 

There is comfort and peace for the stricken in 
heart ; 

God has taken the spirit that basked in thy love, 

" The beautiful angels " have borne it above. 

The plant that you reared to smile on earth's 

gloom, 
Has fastened its roots in the soil of the tomb ; 
It smiled in your garden, so bright and so fair, 
It has climbed o'er the wall, and is blossoming 

there. 

The gem that you wore with pride on your 

breast, 
Adorns with its light the land of the blest ; 
The rose still is fragrant, though broke from the 

stem, 
The setting is ruined, but safe is the gem. 

Then gird thee to labor, to trial and love, 

The treasure once thine shall await thee above ; 

Be faithful, be earnest, night soon will be riven. 

And the lost ones of earth, be thy jewels in 

heaven. 

Rev. S. F. Smith. 
12 



134: LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE TENANTLESS LITTLE BED. 

My little one, my sweet one, 

Thy coucli is empty now, 
Where oft I wiped the dews away 

Which gathered on thy brow. 
No more, amidst the sleepless night, 

I smooth thy pillow fair ; 
'T is smooth indeed, but rest no more 

Thy small, pale features there. 

My little one, my sweet one, 

Thou canst not come to me, 
But nearer draws the numbered hour 

When I shall go to thee ; 
And thou, perchance, with seraph smile 

And golden harp in hand, 
May'st come the first to welcome me 

To our Immanuel's land. 



HE SLEPT. 

They said he died ; — it seems to me 
That, after hours of pain and strife, 

He slept, one even, peacefully, 
And woke to everlasting life. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 135 



TO AN INFANT IN HEAVEN. 

Thou bright and star-like spirit ! 

That, in my visions wild, 
I see mid heaven's seraphic host— 

'O 1 canst thou be my child ? 

My grief is quenched in wonder, 
And pride arrests my sighs ; 

A branch from this unworthy stock 
Now blossoms in the skies. 

Our hopes of thee were lofty, 
But have we cause to grieve ? 

O ! could our fondest, proudest wish 
A nobler fate conceive ? 

The little weeper, tearless, 

The sinner, snatched from sin ; 

The babe, to more than manhood grown, 
Ere childhood did begin. 

And I, thy earthly teacher, 

Would blush thy powers to see ; 

Thou art to me a parent now, 
And I a child to thee I 



136 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

What bliss is born of sorrow ! 

'T is never sent in vain — 
The heavenly surgeon maims to save, 

He gives no useless pain. 

Our God, to call us homeward, 

His only Son sent down : 
And now, still more to tempt our hearts, 

Has taken up our own. 

Thomas Ward 



EPITAPH ON FOUR IKFANTS. 

Bold infidelity ! turn pale and die ; 

Beneath this stone, four infants' ashes lie ; 
Say, are they lost, or saved ? 

If death 's by sin, they sinned, because they 're 
here ; 

If heaven 's by works, in heaven they can't ap- 
pear. 
Beason, ah ! how depraved ! 

Kevere the sacred page, the knot 's untied ; 

They died, for Adam sinned : — they live, for 

Jesus died. 

Rev. R. Kobinson. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 137 



CHILDREN TAKEN IN MERCY. 

It may be your affliction is the loss of chil- 
dren. Well, have you not read such a message 
sent to a godly man, as that in 1 Samuel 2:33? 
" The son of thine whom I shall not cut off 
shall be to consume thine eyes, and to grieve 
thine heart." It is possible that, if thy child 
had lived, it might have made thee the father 
of a fool, or (that I may speak to the sex that 
is most unable to bear this trial) the mother 
of a shame. It is a very ordinary thing for one 
livinor child to occasion more trouble than ten 
dead ones. However, your spiritual interests 
may be exceedingly injured by the temporal 
delights which you desire ; you may rue what 
you wish, because it may be an idol, which will 
render your souls like the " barren heath in the 
wilderness before the Lord." It was the very 
direful calamity of the ancient Israelites, in 
Psalm 106:15. " The Lord gave them their re- 
quest, but sent leanness into their souls." A 
lean soul, a wretched soul, a soul pining away 
in its iniquities, is oftentimes the effect of those 
fine things which we dote upon. It is a blasted 
soul that sets up a creature in the room, on the 
throne of the great God, that gives unto a crea- 
12* 



138 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

ture those affections and cares which are due 
unto the great God alone. Such idolatry the 
soul is too frequently by prosperity seduced 
into. We are told, in Proverbs 1: 32: "The 
prosperity of fools destroys them ; " many a fool 
is thus destroyed. O fearful case 1 A full table 
and a lean soul ! A high title and a lean soul! 
A numerous posterity and a soul even like the 
kine in Pharaoh's dream ! Madness is in our 
hearts if we tremble not at this ; soul calam- 
ities are sore calamities. 

Let not then the death of your children cause 
any inconsolable grief The loss of children, 
did I say — nay, let me recall so harsh a word. 
The children we count lost, are not so. The 
death of our children is not the loss of our chil- 
dren. They are not lost, but given back ; they 

are not lost, but sent before. 

Cotton Mather. 



AN nSTFANT^S DEATH. 

" Be — rather than be called — a child of God," 

Death whispered. With assenting nod, 

Its head upon its mother's breast, 

The baby bowed without demur ; 

Of the kingdom of the blest 

Possessor — not inheritor. 

Coleridge. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 139 



LOVE STRONG IN DEATH. 

The brother of two sisters 

Drew painfully his breath ; 
And a strange fear came o'er him, 

For love was strong in death. 
The fire of fatal fever 

Burned darkly on his cheek ; 
And often to his mother 

He spake, or tried to speak. 

He said, " The quiet moonlight, 

Beneath the shadowed hill, 
Seemed dreaming of good angels. 

While all the woods were still : 
I felt as if from slumber 

I never could awake : 
Oh, mother, give me something 

To cherish for your sake ! 

" A cold, dead weight is on me, — 

A heavy weight, like lead ; 
My hands and feet seem sinking 

Quite through my little bed ! 
I am so tired and weary, — 

With weariness I ache : 
Oh, mother, give me something 

To cherish for your sake ! 



140 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" Some little token give me, 

That I may kiss in sleep, 
To make me feel I 'm near you, 

And bless you, though I weep. 
My sisters say I 'm better — 

But, then, their heads they shake : 
Oh, mother, give me something 

To cherish for your sake ! 

" Why can't I see the poplars, 

Why can't I see the hill, 
Where, dreaming of good angels, 

The moonbeams lay so still ? 
Why can 't I see you^ mother ? 

I surely am awake : 
Oh, haste, and give me something 

To cherish for your sake ! " 

The little bosom heaves not : 

The fire hath left his cheek : 
The one chord — is it broken ? 

The strong chord — could it break ? 
Ah, yes ! the loving spirit 

Hath winged its flight away ! 
The mother and two sisters 

Look down on lifeless clay. 

Ebenezer Elliott. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 141 

WEEP NOT ¥0U HER. 

Weep not for her ! — O she was far too fair, 
Too pure to dwell on this guilt-tainted earth ! 

The sinless glory, and the golden air 

Of Zion, seemed to claim her from her birth ! 

A spirit wandering from its native zone, 

Which, soon discovering, took her for its own : 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her! — Her span was like the sky, 
Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and 
bright ; 
Like flowers that know not what it is to die ; 

Like long-link'd shadeless months of Polar light ; 
Like music floating o'er a waveless lake, 
While Echo answers from the flowery brake : 
Weep not for her ! 

TO A DEAD CHDLD. 

Child of a day, thou knowest not 
The tears that overflow thy urn. 

The gushing eyes that read thy lot. 
Nor, if thou knowest, couldst return ! 

And why the wish ? The pure and blest 
Watch like thy mother o'er thy sleep ; 

O peaceful night ! O envied rest ! 
Thou wilt not ever see her weep. 



142 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE LOST JEWEL. 

Dr. Payson, "when engaged in paying pas- 
toral visits to his spiritual flock, happened one 
day to enter " the house of mourning," and 
there he found a disconsolate mother, whose 
darling child had just been "taken from the 
evil to come," whom he thus addressed : '' Sup- 
pose, now, some one was making a beautiful 
crown for you to wear; and you knew it was 
for you, and that you was to receive it and 
wear it as soon as it should be done. Now, if 
the maker of it were to come, and, in order to 
make the crown more beautiful and splendid, 
were to take some of your jewels to put into it, 
should you be sorrowful and unhappy because 
they were taken away for a little while, when 
you knew they were gone to make up your 
crown ? " 



THE RECEPTION OF TEIALS. 

The spirit in which we receive trials either 
increases or diminishes their bitterness ; forti- 
tude and resignation disarm them of their sharp- 
est darts, while anger and vindictiveness only 
.augment their poignancy. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 143 



THE DYING CHILD TO ITS MOTHEE. 

Cease here longer to detain me, 
Fondest mother, drowned in woe ; 

Now thy kind caresses pain me ; 
Morn advances — let me go. 

See yon orient streak appearing, 

Harbinger of endless day ; 
Hark ! a voice, the darkness cheering, 

Calls my new-born soul away. 

Lately launched, a trembling stranger, 
On the world's wild, boisterous flood ; 

Pierced with sorrows, tossed with danger, 
Gladly I return to God. 

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee ; 

Now my trembling heart find rest ; 
lender arms than thine receive me ; 

Softer pillow than thy breast. 

Weep not o'er these eyes that languish, 
Upward turning toward their home ; 

Raptured they '11 forget all anguish, 
While they wait to see thee come. 



144 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

There, my mother, pleasures centre, 
Weeping, parting, care or wo 

!Ne'er.our Fathers house shall enter; 
Morn advances — let me go. 

As through this calm, peaceful dawning, 
Silent glides my parting breath, 

To an everlasting morning, 
Gently close my eyes in death. 

Blessings endless, richest blessings, 
Pour their streams upon thy heart ! 

Though no language yet possessing. 
Breathes my spirit ere we part. 

Yet to leave thee sorrowing rends me, 
Thouoh aojain his voice I hear : 

Kise ! may every grace attend thee ; 
Kise ! and seek to meet me there. 



THE TRUE CONSOLER. 

Oh ! there is never sorrow of heart 
That shall lack a timely end, 

If but to God we turn and ask 
Of him to be our friend ! 

Wordsworth. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 145 



THE LAIVIB WITHOUT. 

Whenever I close the door at night, 
And turn the creaking key about, 

A pang renewed assails mv heart — 
I think my darling is shut out ; 

Think that, beneath these starry skies 
He wanders, with his little feet ; 

The pines stand hushed in glad surprise, 
The garden yields its tribute sweet. 

Through every well-known path and nook 
I see his angel footsteps glide, 

As guileless as the Pascal Lamb 
That kept the infant Saviour's side. 

His earnest eye, perhaps, can pierce 
The gloom in which his parents sit ; 

He wonders what has changed the house. 
And why the cloud hangs over it. 

He passes with a pensive smile, — 
Why do they linger to grow old, 

And what the burthen on their hearts ? 
On liim shall sorrow have no hold. 
13 



146 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

WitMn the darkened porcli I stand — 
Scarce knowing why, I linger long; 

O, could I call thee back to me, 
Bright bird of heaven, with sooth or song ! 

But no — the wayworn wretch shall pause 
To bless the shelter of this door ; 

Kinsman and guest shall enter in, 
But my lost darling, never more. 

Yet, waiting on his gentle ghost. 

From sorrow's void, so deep and dull, 

Comes a faint breathing of delight, 
A presence calm and beautiful. 

I have him, not in outstretched arms, 
I hold him, not with straining sight, 

While in blue depths of quietude 

Drops, like a star, my still " Good-night.'* 

Thus, nightly, do I bow my head 
To the unseen, eternal Force ; 

Asking sweet pardon of my child. 
For yielding him in death's divorce. 

He turned away from childhke plays, 
His baby toys he held in scorn ; 

He loved the forms of thought divine. 
Woods, flowers, and fields of waving com. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 147 

And then I knew my little one 

Should by no vulgar love be taught ; 

But by the symbols God has given 
To solemnize our common thought ; 

The mystic angels, three in one, 

The circling serpent's faultless round, 

And, in far glory dim, the Cross, 

Where Love overleaps the human bound. 

Mrs. Howe. 



DEATH OF THE YOUNG. 

Oh ! it is hard to take 
The lesson that such deaths will teach, 

But let no man reject it. 
For it is one that all must learn, 
And it is a mighty universal truth, 
When death strikes down the innocent and young. 
For every fragile form from which he lets 

The parting spirit free, 

A hundred virtues rise, 
In shapes of mercy, charity, and love. 

To walk the world and bless it. 

Of every tear 
That sorrowing mortals shed on such green 

graves. 
Some good is born, some gentler nature comes. 

DlCKEI^S. 



148 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



GOD SHIELD THEE, CHILDLESS MOTHER. 

Young mother ! what can feeble friendship say, 
To soothe the anguish of this mournful day ? 
They, they alone, whose hearts like thine have 

bled, 
Know how the living sorrow for the dead ; 
Each tutored voice, that seeks such grief to 

cheer, 
Strikes cold upon the weeping parent's ear ; 
I 've felt it all, — alas ! too well I know 
How vain all earthly power to hush thy woe ! 
God cheer thee, childless mother ! 't is not given 
For man to ward the blow that falls from heaven. 

I 've felt it all — as thou art feeling now ; 
Like thee, with stricken heart and aching brow, 
I 've sat and watched by dying beauty's bed, 
And burning tears of hopeless anguish shed; 
I 've gazed upon the sweet but pallid face. 
And vainly tried some comfort there to trace ; 
I 've listened to the short and struggling breath ; 
I 've seen the cherub eye grow dim in death ; 
Like thee, I've veiled my head in speechless 

gloom. 
And laid my first-born in the silent tomb. 

Charles Spragub. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 149 



THE LOST DARLING. 

She was my idol. Night and day to scan 
The fine expression of her form, and mark 
The unfolding mind like vernal rose-bud start 
To sudden beauty, was my chief delight. 
To find her fairy footsteps following me, 
Her hand upon my garments, or her lip 
Close sealed to mine, and in the watch of night 
The quiet breath of innocence to feel 
Soft on my cheek, was such a full content 
Of happiness as none but mothers know. 

Her voice was like some tiny harp that yields 
To the light-fingered breeze ; and as it held 
Brief converse with her doll, or kindly soothed 
Her moaning kitten, or with patient care 
Conned o'er the alphabet — but most of all 
Its tender cadence in her evening prayer — 
Thrilled on the ear hke some ethereal tone 
Heard in sweet dreams. But now alone I sit, 
Musing of her, and dew with mournful tears 
The httle robes that once with woman's pride 
I wrought, as if there were a need to deck 
A being formed so beautiful. I start, 
Half fancying from her empty crib there comes 
13* 



150 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

A restless sound, and breathe the accustomed 

words — 
" Hush, hush, Louisa, dearest ! '* — then I weep, 
As though it were a sin to speak to one 
Whose home is with the angels. 

Gone to God ! 
And yet I wish I had not seen the pang 
That wrung her features, nor the ghostly white 
Setting around her lips. I would that heaven 
Had taken its own, like some transplanted 

flower. 
In all its bloom and freshness. 

Gone to God ! 
Be still, my heart ! AVhat could a mother's 

prayer, 
In all the wildest ecstasy of hope, 
Ask for its darling like the bliss of heaven ? 

Mrs. L. H. Sigourney. 



"LENT— NOT GIVEN.'' 

God takes the beautiful, the best ; 

They are but lent, not given : 
He sets " His jewels" on His breast, 

That they may shine in heaven. 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN. 151 



LITTLE CHARLIE. 

O sUNSHii^TE, making golden spots 

Upon the carpet at my feet — 
The shadows of the coming flowers ! 
The phantoms of forget-me-nots 

And roses red and sweet ! — 
How can you seem so full of joy, 

And we so sad at heart and sore ? — 
Angel of death ! again thy wings 

Are folded at our door ! 

We can but yearn through length of days 

For something lost we fancied ours : 
We 11 miss thee, darling, when the spring 

Has touched the world to flowers ! 
For thou wast like that dainty month 

Which strews the violets at its feet : 
Thy life was slips of golden sun 

And silver tear-drops braided sweet ! 
For thou wast light and thou wast shade, 
And thine were sweet capricious ways! — 

Now lost in purple languors, now 
No bird in ripe red summer days 

Was half as wild as thou ! 



152 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

O little presence ! everywhere 

We find some touching trace of thee — 
A pencil mark upon the wall 

That "naughty hands" made thoughtlessly: 
And broken toys around the house — 

Where he has left them they have lain, 
Waiting for little busy hands 

That will not come again, — 

Will never come again ! 

Within the shrouded room below 
He lies a-cold — and yet we know 

It is not Charlie there I 
It is not Charlie, cold and white, 
It is the robe, that, in his flight, 

He gently cast aside ! 

Our darling hath not died ! 

O rare pale lips ! O clouded eyes ! 

O violet eyes grown dim ! 
Ah, well, this little lock of hair 

Is all of him ! 
Is all of him that we can keep 

For loving kisses, and the thought 
Of him and death may teach us more 

Than all our life hath taught ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 153 

God, walking over starry spheres, 

Did clasp his tiny hand, 
And led him, through a fall of tears, 

Into the mystic land ! 

Angel of death ! we question not : 

Who asks of heaven, " Why does it rain ? " 
Angel ! we bless thee, for thy kiss 

Hath hushed the lips of Pain ! 
No "^Yherefore?" or "To what good end?" 

Shall out of doubt and anguish creep 
Into our thought. We bow our heads : 

He giveth His beloved sleep ! 

T. B. Aldrich. 



DEATH WITHOUT ITS STING. 

Mourn not o'er early graves — for those 
Removed whilst only buds are shown, 

For God, who sowed and watered, knows 
The time to gather in his own. 

This blossom knows no winter's breath, 
Sheltered beneath the Almighty wing ; 

And though it felt the stroke of death. 
Blest babe ! it never knew its sting. 



154 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



HOUSEHOLD DIRGE. 

I 'VE lost my little May at last ! 

She perished in the spring, 
When earliest flowers began to bud, 

And earliest birds to sing ; 
I laid her in a country grave, 

A rural, soft retreat : 
A marble tablet at her head. 

And violets at her feet. 

I would that she were back again, 

In all her childish bloom ; 
My joy and hope have followed her, 

My heart is in the tomb ! 
I know that she is gone away, 

I know that she is fled ; 
I miss her everywhere, and yet 

I cannot make her dead ! 

I wake the children up at dawn. 

And say a simple prayer, 
And draw them round the morning meal, 

But one is wanting there ! 
I see a little chair apart, 

A little pinafore, 
And memory fills the vacancy. 

As time will — never more ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 155 

I sit within my room and write, 

The lone and weary hours, 
And miss the little maid again 

Among the window flowers ; 
And miss her with the toys beside 

My desk, in silent play ; 
And then I turn and look for her, 

But she has flown away. 

I drop my idle pen and hark, 

And catch the faintest sound ; 
She must be playing hide-and-seek 

In shady nooks around ; 
She '11 come and climb my chair again, 

And peep my shoulder o'er ; 
I hear a stifled laugh — but no, 

She Cometh never more ! 

I waited only yesternight, 

The evening service read, 
And lingered for my idol's kiss, 

Before she went to bed ; 
Forgetting she had gone before, 

In slumbers soft and sweet : 
A monument above her head. 

And violets at her feet I 

E. H, Stoddaed. 



156 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



LINKS m THE HEAVENLY CHAIN. 

There is something pleasing in this fact: 
that every infant that you lose is a link that 
binds you to the grave on the one hand, and 
a link also that binds you to eternity on the 
other. A portion of yourself has taken pos- 
session of the tomb, to remind you that you 
must lie down there. A soul that was related 
to yourself has taken possession of eternity, to 
remind you that you must enter there. Our 
bodies are, through our infants, in communion 
with the dust ; and our spirits, through theirs, 
with the everlasting throne. We are so dis- 
posed to strike our roots into this fading and 
fainting earth, that it becomes mercy on the 
part of God to send those chastisements, which 
loosen our affections from a world doomed 
to flame. Each infant that we lose is a tie 
(holy and happy truth!) less to bind us to 
this world, and a tie more to bind our hearts 
to that better world where our infants have 
preceded us. It is thus God gradually loosens 
the tree before it falls. Death thus loses half 
its pain before it overtakes us. Happy truth, 
if we realize it ! Happy lesson, if we feel it I 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 157 

Good and gracious is that Father, who thus 
preaches to His people from the infant's bier, 
when they will not learn the lesson which they 
need from His ambassadors in the pulpit ! 



THE MINISTERING ANGEL. 

Mother, has the dove that nestled 

Lovingly upon thy breast, 
Folded up his little pinion. 

And in darfeess gone to rest ? 
Nay, the grave is dark and dreary, 

But the lost one is not there ; 
Hear'st thou not its gentle whisper, 

Floating on the ambient air ? 
It is near thee, gentle mother. 

Near thee at the evening hour ; 
Its soft kiss is in the zephyr, 

It looks up from every flower. 
And when. Night's dark shadows fleeing, 

Low thou bendest thee in prayer. 
And thy heart feels nearest heaven. 

Then thy angel babe is there ! 

Mrs. Emily Judson 



14 



158 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE OPEN WIOT)OW. 

The old house by the lindens 

Stood silent in the shade, 
And on the gravelled pathway 

The light and shadow played. 

I saw the nursery windows 

Wide open to the air ; 
But the faces of the children, 

They were no longer there. 

The laroje Newfoundland house-dog 
Was standing by the door ; 

He looked for his little playmates, 
Who would return no more. 

They walked not under the lindens, 
They played not in the hall ; 

But shadow, and silence, and sadness 
Where hanging over all. 

The birds sang in the branches, 
With sweet, familiar tone ; 

But the voices of the children 
Will be heard in dreams alone ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HE A YEN. 159 

And the boy that walked beside me, 

He could not understand 
Why closer in mine, ah ! closer, 

I pressed his warm, soft hand ! 

LONaFELLOW. 



CHILDEEN ENTEEING HEAVEN. 

Who are they whose little feet. 

Pacing life's dark journey through, 
Now have reached that heavenly seat 
They had ever kept in view ? 
" I from Greenland's frozen land ; *' 

" I from India's sultry plain ; " 
" I from Afric's barren sand ; " 
" I from islands of the main." 
*' All our earthly journey past, 
Every tear and pain gone by. 
Here together met at last 

At the portals of the sky ; 
Each the welcome ^ Come ' awaits, 

Conquerors over death and sin ! " 
Lift your heads, ye golden gates, 
Let the little travellers in. 

EDM01O>S0]!f. 



160 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



ON SEEING AN INEANT PEEPARED FOR 
THE GRAVE. 

Go to thy sleep, my child, 

Go to thy dreamless bed, 
Gentle and undefiled, 

With blessings on thy head ; 
Fresh roses in thy hand, 

Buds on thy pillow laid, — 
Haste from this fearful land, 

Where flowers so quickly fade. 

Before thy heart had learned 

In waywardness to stray, 
Before thy feet had turned 

The dark and downward way ; 
Ere sin had seared thy breast, 

Or sorrow woke the tear, 
Rise to thy home of rest 

In yon celestial sphere. 

Because thy smile was fair, 

Thy lip and eye so bright ; 
Because thy cradle-care 

Was such a fond delight, 
Shall Love, with weak embrace, 

Thy outspread wing detain ? 
No ! — Angel, seek thy place 

Amid the cherub train. 

Mrs. L. H. SiGOURiTEY. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 161 



THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED. 

I AM all alone in my chamber now, 

And the midnight hour is near, 
And the fagot's crack, and the clock's dull tick, 

Are the only sounds I hear ; 
And over my soul, in its solitude. 

Sweet feelings of sadness glid(i ; 
For my heart and my eyes are full, when I think 

Of the little boy that died. 

I went one night to my father's house — 

Went home to the dear ones all. 
And softly I opened the garden gate, 

And softly the door of the hall. 
My mother came out to meet her son. 

She kissed me, and then she sighed. 
And her head fell on my neck, and she wept 

For her little boy that died. 

And when I gazed on his innocent face. 

As still and cold he lay. 
And thought what a lovely child he had been, 

And how soon he must decay ; 
" Oh death, thou lovest the beautiful," 

In the woe of my spirit I cried. 
For sparkled the eyes, and the forehead was fair, 

Of the little boy that died ! 
14* 



162 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Again I will go to my father's house 

Go home to the dear ones all, 
And sadly I '11 open the garden gate, 

And sadly the door of the hall. 
I shall meet my mother, but never more 

With her darling by her side ; 
But she '11 kiss me, and sigh and weep again 

For the little boy that died. 

I shall miss him when the flowers come 

In the garden where he played ; 
I shall miss him more by the fire-side, 

When the flowers have all decayed. 
I shall see his toys and his empty chair, 

And the horse he used to ride ; 
And they will speak, with a silent speech, 

Of the little boy that died. 

I shall see his little sister again 

With her playmates about the door. 
And I '11 watch the children in their spoils, 

As I never did before ; 
And if in the group I see a child 

That 's dimpled and laughing-eye 
I '11 look to see if it may not be 

The little boy that died. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 163 

We shall all go Iiome to our Father's house — 

To our Father's house in the skies, 
Where the hope of our soul shall have no blight, 

And our love no broken ties ; 
We shall roam on the banks of the Eiver of 
Peace, 

And bathe in its blissful tide : 
And one of the joys of our heaven shall be 

The Httle boy that died ! 

And, therefore, when I am sitting alone, 

And the midnight hour is near. 
When the fagot's crack and the clock's dull tick 

Are the only sounds I hear, — 
Oh sweet o'er my soul in its soHtude 

Are the feelings of sadness that glide ; 
Though my heart and my eyes are full, when I 
think 

Of the little boy that died. 

Joshua D. Kobiksos. 



Oh ! the lost, the unforgotten, 
Though the world be oft forgot ; 

Oh ! the shrouded and the lonely, 
In our hearts they perish not. 



164 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 



KITTIE IS GONE. 

The following beautiful and touching prose-poem was 
written by Mr. William B. Bradbury, the musical 
comj)oser, on the death of his daughter, aged five years 
and seventeen days. 

KiTTiE is gone. AYhere ? To heaven. An 
angel came, and took lier away. She was a 
lovely child — gentle as a lamb; the pet of the 
whole family ; the youngest of them all. But 
she could not stay with us any longer. She 
had an angel-sister in heaven, who was waiting 
for her. The angel-sister was with us only a 
few months, but she has been in heaven many 
years, and she must have loved Kittie, for 
everybody loved her. The loveliest flowers 
are often soonest plucked. If a little voice 
sweeter and more musical than others was 
heard, I knew Eattie was near. If my study- 
door opened so gently and slyly that no sound 
could be heard, I knew Elittie was coming. If 
after an hour's quiet play, a little shadow passed 
me, and the door opened and shut as no one 
else could open and shut it, "so as not to dis- 
turb papa," I knew Kittie was going. When, 
in the midst of my composing, I heard a gen- 
tle voice saying, " Papa, may I stay with you 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVENo 165 

a little while ? I will be very still," I did not 
need to look oiF my work, to assure me that 
it was my little lamb. You staid with me too 
long, Kittie dear, to leave me so suddenly; 
and you are too still now. You became my 
little assistant • — my home-angel — my young- 
est and sweetest singing-bird, and I miss the 
little voice that I have heard in an adjoining 
room, catching up and echoing little snatches 
of melody as they were being composed. I 
miss those soft and sweet kisses. I miss the 
little hand that was always first to be placed 
upon my forehead, to " drive away the pain." 
I miss the sound of those little feet upon the 
stairs. I miss the little knock at my bed-room 
door in the morning, and the triple good-night 
kiss in the evening. I miss the sweet smiles 
from the sunniest of faces. I miss — oh ! how 
I miss the foremost in the little group who came 
out to meet me at the gate for the first kiss. I 
do not stoop so low now, Kittie, to give that first 
kiss. I miss you at the table, and at family 
worship. I miss your voice in " / loant to he an 
angel '' for nobody could sing it like you. I miss 
you in my rides and walks. I miss you in the 
garden. I miss you everywhere ; but I will 
try not to miss you in heaven. " Papa, if we 
are good, will an angel truly come and take 



166 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

US to heaven Tvhen we die ? " When the ques- 
tion was asked, how httle did I think the angel 
was so near ! But he did " truly " come, and 
the sweet flower is translated to a more genial 
clime. "I do wish papa would come." Wait 
a little while, Kittie, and papa will come. The 
journey is not long. He will soon be " home." 



MINISTERING SPIRITS. 

It is a beautiful belief, 

That ever round our head 
Are hovering on noiseless wing 

The spirits of the dead. 
It is a beautiful belief, 

When ended our career, 
That it will be our ministry 

To watch o'er others here ; 
To lend a moral to the flower, 

Breathe wisdom on the wind, 
To hold commune at night's lone hour, 

With the imprisoned mind ; 
To bid the mourner cease to mourn, 

The trembling be forgiven ; 
To bear away from ills of clay, 

The infant to its heaven. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 167 



THE WINTER BURIAL. 

Composed on the burial of a child in a grave three feet 
deep in the snow. 

Our baby lies under the snow, sweet wife, 
Our baby lies under the snow ; 

Out in tbe dark with the night, 
While the winds so loudly blow. 

Shall we shut the baby out, sweet wife, 
While the chilling winds do blow ? 

O, the grave is now its bed, 
And its coverlet is snow. 

O, our merry bird is soared, sweet wife. 

That a rain of music gave ! 
And the snow falls on our hearts, 

And our hearts are each a grave. 

O, she was the lamp of our life, sweet wife, 

Blown out in a night of gloom ! 
A leaf from our flower of love. 

Nipped in its fresh spring bloom. 

But the lamp will shine above, sweet wife, 

And the leaf again will grow, 
Where there are no bitter winds, 

And no dreary, dreary snow. 

Sheldon Chadwick. 



168 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH 

OF HER SON. 

Fate gave the word, the arrow sped, 

And pierced the darling's heart ; 
And with him all the joys are fled, 

Life can to me impart. 
By cruel hands the sapling drops, 

In dust dishonored laid : 
So fell the pride of all my hopes. 

My age's future shade. 

The mother-linnet in the brake 

Bewails her ravished young ; 
So I, for my lost darling's sake. 

Lament the live day long. 
Death, oft I 've fear'd thy fatal blow, 

Now, fond I bare my breast ; 
O, do thou kindly lay me low 

Vfith him I love, at rest ! 

Robert Burns. 



There is a voice which sorrow hears, 

"When heaviest weighs life's galling chain ; 

'T is heaven that whispers — dry thy tears. 
The pure in heaven shall meet again. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 169 



THE INFAJ^T SPIRIT'S PRAYER. 

Addressed to a lady who had lost her Husband and 
Child. 

Silence filled the courts of heaven, hushed 

were angel harp and tone, 
While a httle new-born spirit knelt before the 

eternal throne. 
As his small white hands were lifted, clasped as 

if in earnest prayer, 
And his voice in low, sweet murmurs rose like 

music on the air. 
Light from the full fount of glory on his robes 

of whiteness glistened. 
And the bright- winged seraphs round him bowed 

their radiant heads and listened. 



" Lord, from thy world of glory here, 

My heart turns fondly to another : 
O Lord, our God ! the Comforter, 

Comfort, comfort my sweet mother ! 
Many sorrows hast thou sent her. 

Meekly hath she drained the cup, 
And the jewels thou hast lent her, 

Unrepining, yielded up : 
Comfort, comfort my sweet mother ! 
15 



170 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" Eartli is growing lonely round her, 

Friend and lover hast thou taken ; 
Let her not, though clouds surround her, 

Feel herself by Thee forsaken. 
Let her think, while faint and weary, 

We are waiting for her here ; 
Let each thought that makes earth dreary 

Make the thought of heaven more dear. 

" Saviour, Thou, in nature human. 

Dwelt on earth a little child, 
Pillowed on the breast of woman, 

Blessed Mary, undefiled. 
Thou, who from thy cross of suffering 

Viewed thy mother's tearful face, 
And bequeathed her to thy loved one. 

Bidding him to fill thy place. 
Comfort, comfort my sweet mother ! 

" Thou, who, from the heavens descending. 

Tears, and woes, and suffering won ; 
Thou, who, nature's laws suspending, 

Gave the widow back her son ; 
Thou, who at the grave of Lazarus 

Wept with those who wept their dead ; 
Thou, who once in mortal anguish 

Bowed thine own anointed head, — 
Comfort, comfort my sweet mother ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 171 

The dove-like murmer died away upon the 

evening air, 
Yet still the little suppliant knelt, with hands 

still clasped in prayer ; 
Still were the softly-pleading eyes turned to the 

sapphire throne, 
While angel harp and angel voice rang out in 

mingling tone. 
And as the choral numbers swelled by angel 

voices given. 
High, loud and clear the anthem rolled through 

all the courts of heaven. 
" He is the widow's God," it said, " who spared 

not his own Son." 
The infant spirit bowed its head, — " Thy will, 

God, be done !'' 



A MEMORY. 

Her memory still within my mind 

Retains its sweetest power; 
It is the perfume left behind 

That whispers of the flower. 

Mrs. Welby. 



172 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE CKOCUS. 

Beneath the sunny autumn sky, 

With gold leaves dropping round, 
We sought, my little friend and I, 

The consecrated ground, 
Where calm beneath the holy cross, 

Overshadowed by sweet skies. 
Sleeps tranquilly that youthful form, 

Those blue, unclouded eyes. 

Around the soft o;reen swelling mound 

We scooped the earth away. 
And buried deep the crocus bulbs 
Against a coming day. 
" These roots are dry, and brown, and sere, 

Why plant them here ? " he said, 
" To leave them all the winter long 
So desolate and dead.'* 

" Dear child, within each sere dead form 

There sleeps a living flower, 
And angel-like it shall arise 

In spring's returning hour." 
Ah, deeper down — cold, dark, and chill, 

We buried our heart's flower. 
But angel-like shall he arise 

In spring's immortal hour. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 173 

In blue and yellow from its grave 

Springs up the crocus fair, 
And God shall raise those bright blue eyes, 

Those sunny waves of hair. 
Not for a fading summer's morn, 

Not for a fleeting hour, 
But for an endless age of bliss, 

Shall rise our heart's dear flower. 

Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 



A DIRGE. 

Calm on the bosom of thy God, 
Young spirit ! rest thee now ; 

Even while with us thy footstep trod 
His seal was on thy brow. 

Dtist, to Its narrow house beneath ! 

Soul, to its place on high ! — 
They that have seen thy look in death, 

No more may fear to die. 

Lone are the paths, and sad the bowers. 

Whence thy meek smile is gone ; 
But oh ! a brighter home than ours 
In heaven is now thine own. 

Felicia Hemans. 
15* 



174 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



TO A BEEEAYED FATHER. 

I CANNOT, I dare not say, weep not. Jesus 
wept at the grave of Lazarus, and surely, he 
allows you to weep ; surely, there is a " needs 
be " that you feel a heaviness under such a 
trial. But O, let hope and joy mitigate your 
heaviness. I know not how this, or a former 
trial, shall work for your good, but it is enough 
that God knows. He that said, " All things 
shall work together for good to them that love 
God," excepts not from this promise the sorest 
trial. You devoted your son to God ; you can- 
not doubt that he accepted the surrender. If 
he has been hid in the chamber of the grave 
from the evil of sin, and from the evil of suffer- 
ing, let not your eye be evil, when God is good. 
What you chiefly wished for him, and prayed 
on his behalf, was spiritual and heavenly bless- 
ings. If the greatest thing you wished for is 
accomplished, at the season and in the man- 
ner Infinite Wisdom saw best, refuse not to 
be comforted; you know not what work and 
joy have been waiting for him in that world, 
where God's "servants shall serve him.' Should 
you sorrow immoderately when you have such 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 175 

ground of hope that he, and his other parent, 
are rejoicing in what you lament ? I know that 
nature will feel ; and I believe suppressing its 
emotions in such cases is not profitable, either 
to soul or body; but, I trust, though you mourn, 
God will keep you from murmuring, and that 
you shall have to glory in your tribulation and 
infirmity, while the power of Christ is mani- 
fested thereby. 

Eeskinb. 



THE DEATH LULLABY. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
Once more upon my breast 
Thine aching head shall rest, 

In quiet sleep. 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! 
Sweetly thine eye is closing, 
Calmly thou 'rt now reposing, 

In slumber deep. 

Sleep, angel baby, sleep ! 
Not in thy cradle bed 
Shall rest thy little head. 
But with the quiet dead, 

In dreamless sleep. 



176 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE ALPINE SHEEP. 

After our child's untroubled breath 

Up to the Father took its way, 
And on our home the shade of death 

Like a long twilight haunting lay, 

And friends came round with us to weep 

Her little spirit's swift remove, 
This story of the Alpine sheep 

Was told to us by one we love : — 

" They, in the valley's sheltering care, 
Soon crop the meadow's tender prime, 
And when the sod grows brown and bare. 
The shepherd strives to make them climb, 

" To airy shelves of pastures green, 

That hang along the mountain's side, 
Where grass and flowers together lean, 
And down through mist the sunbeams slide. 

" But naught can tempt the timid things 
That steep and rugged path to try, 
Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings, 
And seared below the pastures lie, — 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 177 

" Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 
Along the dizzy verge to go, 
Then, heedless of the lifts and breaks, 
They follow on o'er rocks and snow. 

" And in those pastures lifted fair. 

More dewy soft than lowland mead. 
The shepherd drops his tender care, 
And sheep and lambs together feed." 

This parable, by nature breathed, 
Blew on me as the south-wind free 

O'er frozen brooks that float unsheathed 
From icy thraldom to the sea. 

A blissful vision throu2^h the nis^ht 
Would all my happy senses sway, 

Of the good shepherd on the height, 
Or climbing up the stony way. 

Holding our little lamb asleep ; 

And, like the burden of the sea, 
Sounded that voice along the deep, 

Saying, '''' Arise ^ and follow me.'' 

Mrs. Maria Lowell. 



178 LITTLE OISTES IN ilEAYEN. 



THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER. 

The sweetest voice is hushed, 

The loveliest smile is gone ; 
The foot of Death has crushed 

My child — my dearest one. 
Was there no other place to tread, 
That he must trample on thy head ? 

That foot is on my heart, 

With all its fatal weight 
It mangles every part, 

And lays me desolate ; 
The pain of more than death is mine. 
The lighter pang, dear child, was thine. 

How drear the household hearth ! 

How dark is every room ! 
There is no light on earth, 

To dissipate the gloom. 
Before we prized them, joys are fled, — 
Tears for the living — not the dead. 

Away beyond the tomb, 
Sweet spirit, thou art flown. 

Where loveliness can bloom. 
And blighting is unknown ; 

My faith would trace thine upward way, 

And catch of heaven some cheering ray. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 179 

One short and happy year 

Thou smiled'st on us below ; 
We hoped to keep thee here 

Till we were called to go ; 
But God takes back the blessings lent, 
Though we our weaker claims present. 

To thee it was not given 

To speak with mortal tongue ; 

The dialect of heaven 
Already hast thou sung. 

Too hard our speech — too slow our ways; 

Angels must teach thee words of praise. 

What we cannot discern, 

Thine eyes can plainly see ; 
How much have we to learn, 

If we would equal thee ! 
Thine infant spirit near the throne. 
Excels all mind that Earth hath known. 

Our selfish hearts had bound thee 
To hold thee back from bliss ; 

Now glory beams around thee 
In brighter worlds than this. 

Farewell, till guardian angels come 

To bear us to thy happy home. 

Kev. Dudley Phelps. 



180 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE SPHERE OF CHILDREN IN HEAVEN. 

Does it not cast a nameless charm around 
an early death, to consider how entirely hidden 
from a child are all the black spots in this world 
of sin ? Escaping not only the pollution of the 
world, but the knowledge that it exists — being 
old enough to trust the Saviour, though too young 
to know the dire effects of sin — they experi- 
ence just enough of the evil of the fall to bring 
them in as subjects of the redemption. The 
little ones of Christ's flock are taken to the 
heavenly fold without coming into open contact 
with the destroyer of souls, and ere he has had 
time to spread his gilded baits before their eyes. 
The " depths of Satan " — those mysteries of evil 
by which he enslaves millions of victims — are 
all unknown to them. They have never been 
bound down by the iron chain of habit. Nor 
have they encountered temptations demanding 
a constant warfare, as those who have come to 
mature years, and who may have received the 
largest measures of the Spirit, know to their 
cost. Are they not tJien qualified for a different 
mission in the economy of the kingdom ofheaveuy 
and for holding a diffei^ent place in the glorified 
company — even as those who have endured a 



LITTLE OaSTES IN HEAVEN. 181 

great figlit of afflictions and been pre-eminent 
exhibitions of God's grace are thereby fitted for 
a higher sphere ? May we not suppose that 
their Father in heaven, who early transplants 
so many of these little ones thither, has some 
special design to serve — some work for them 
in His house above — "for of such is the king- 
dom of heaven ? " 

The Way Home. 



THE CHH^D-ANGEL. 

With what unknown delight the mother smiled, 
When this frail treasure in her arms she 
pressed I 
Her prayer was heard, — she clasped a living 
child,— 
But how the gift transcends the poor request! 
A child was all she asked, with many a vow ; 
Mother, behold the child an angel now ! 

Now in her Father's house she finds a place ; 

Or, if to earth she take a transient flight, 
'T is to fulfil the purpose of His grace, 

To guide thy footsteps to the Tvorld of light ; — 
A ministering spirit sent to thee, 
That where she is, there thou may'st also be. 

J Ainu Taylok. 
16 



182 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



BAEIE BELL. 

Have you not heard the poet tell 
How came the dainty Babie Bell 

Into this world of ours ? 
The gates of heaven were left ajar : 

With folded hands and dreamy eyes 

She wandered out of Paradise ! 
She saw this planet, like a star, 
Hung in the depths of purple even — 
Its bridges, running to and fro, 
O'er which the white- winged seraphs go, 
Bearing the holy dead to heaven ! 
She touched a bridge of flowers — those feet, 
So light they did not bend the bells 
Of the celestial asphodels ! 
They fell like dew upon the flowers ! 
And all the air grew strangely sweet ! 
And thus came dainty Babie Bell 

Into this world of ours ! 

She came, and brought delicious May ! 

The swallows built beneath the eaves ; 

Like sunbeams in and out the leaves. 
The robbins went, the live-long day : 
The lily swung its noiseless bell. 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN. 183 

And o'er the porch the trembling vine 
Seemed bursting with its veins of wine ! — 

O, earth was full of pleasant smell, 

When came the dainty Babie Bell 
Into this world of ours ! 

O Babie, dainty Babie Bell ! 
How fair she grew from day to day ! 
What woman-nature filled her eyes, 
What poetry within them lay ! 
Those deep and tender twilight eyes. 

So full of meaning, pure and bright, 

As if she yet stood in the light 
Of those oped gates of Paradise ! 

And we loved Babie more and more : 

O never in our hearts before 
Such holy love was born : 

We felt we had a link between 

This real world and that unseen — 
The land of deathless morn ! 
And for the love of those dear eyes, 

For love of her whom God led forth — 

The mother's being ceased on earth 
When Babie came from Paradise ! 
For love of Him who smote om- lives, 

And woke the chords of joy and pain, 
We said, " Sweet Christ 1 " — our hearts bent down 

Like violets after rain ! 



184 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

And now tbe orchards wMch were once 
All white and rosy in their bloom — 

Filling the crystal heart of air 

With gentle pulses of perfume — 

Were thick with yellow, juicy fruit ; 

The plums were globes of honey rare, 

And soft-cheeked peaches blushed and fell ! 

The grapes were purpling in the grange ; 

And Time wrought just as rich a change 
In little Babie Bell ! 

Her 2:)etit form more perfect grew, 

And in her features we could trace, 
In softened curves, her mother's face : 

Her angel-nature ripened too. 

We thought her lovely when she came, 
But she was holy, saintly now * * * * 
Around her pale and lofty brow 

We thought we saw a ring of flame ! 

Sometimes she said a few strange words, 

Whose meanings lay beyond our reach ; 

God's hand hath taken off the seal 

Which held the portals of her speech ! 

She never was a child to us ; 

We never held her being's key ! 

We could not teach her holy things : 

She was Christ's self in purity ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 185 

It came upon us by degrees : 

We saw its shadow ere it fell, 

The knowledge that our God had sent 

His messenger for Babie Bell ! 

We shuddered with unlanguaged pain, 

And all our thoughts ran into tears ! 

And all our hopes were changed to fears — 
The sunshine into dismal rain ! 

Aloud we cried in our belief: — 
" O smite us gently, gently, God ! 

Teach us to bend and kiss the rod. 
And perfect grow through grief! " 
Ah, how we loved her, God can tell ; 
Her little heart was cased in ours — 
They 're broken caskets — Babie Bell ! 
At last he came, the messenger, 

The messenger from unseen lands : 
And what did dainty Babie Bell ? 

She only crossed her little hands ! 
She only looked more meek and fair ! 
We parted back her silken hair ; 
We laid some buds upon her brow — 
Death's bride arrayed in flowers ! 
And thus went dainty Babie Bell 

Out of this world of ours ! 

T. B. Aldbich. 

16* 



186 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE BOY'S LAST WORDS. 

A mother, in giving an account of the death of her son, 
a promising boy of fourteen, relates the following beauti- 
ful incident : 

I WAS watching by his side the last night of 
his sickness, when he reached for my hand, and 
with the tone and emj)hasis of the deepest mean- 
ing, and which showed he was giving unpremed- 
itated expression to his feelings, he said, pausing 
between his sentences to recover breath : 

" Give me your hand, dear mother, 
And come to my beautiful home I 
I 'm going. I 'm almost there — 
Only this narrow bridge to pass — 
From a dark world of sorrow and toil and care, 
To a world of glory all bright and fair. 
Oh! come with me now, it 's a beautiful home, 
You are sick, dear mother, and faint and alone. 
Oh ! why will you stay ? — I 'm going now ; 
There is no sin there, nor death, nor woe; 
Oh! promise me, mother, and let us go. 
Come, come, oh, dear mother, come! " 

I have given his words just as he spoke them. 
Their poetical form can be accounted for from 
the fact that he occasionally wrote rhymes ; and 
is not poetry the natural language of deep emo- 
tion? 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 187 



THE DEATH AND BUEIAL. 

She was not quite one year old. I cannot 
venture to describe her. My heart swells, and 
is ready to break, at the thought of some sweet, 
touching feature, some winning way, the posture 
and motion of her hands or feet, her inarticulate 
noises with her lips, and pressure of her mouth 
against our cheeks, that being as far as she had 
advanced in kissing. Sights of her asleep, when 
h-er mother and I stood over her with lamp in 
hand, are as deeply stamped on my mind as 
views in the Alps. I could tell you every dim- 
ple which we detected as she lay on her back, 
a knee or arm disengaged from her clothing. 
AU her mimicry of sounds and motions, and her 
little feats, which astonished herself and made us 
shout; her morning bath, she a little image, with 
her very straight back, plashing the water with 
her feet; and other nameless things, raise the 
question, and leave it in doubt, whether I wish 
there were more of them to remember, or whether 
it is well for me that she had been developed no 
more. Human bliss arrives at perfection as 
frequently in such scenes and experiences, as 
when we have made calculations for happiness ; 
indeed we are never more happy than during 



\ 



188 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

the little sudden tournaments of love with a 
young child ; and the man who has a wife and 
child, sujDplving him with these inadvertent 
pleasures, will find in the retrospect that he 
was most happy when he least suspected it. 
To know when we have in possession the 
means of true happiness, and to rejoice in it, 
and feel satisfied, is rare. Would that I had 
thought more of this when my little child was 
with me. 

Sometimes I looked at her with a feeling of 
awe. Mine, indeed she was ; but in what a 
subordinate sense ! That perfect frame, that 
wondrous mind, that immortal destiny, often 
made me shrink into nothingness at the con- 
templation of her, — feeling that God, in making 
her, had rolled a sphere into an orbit which is 
measureless, making it touch mine, but having a 
path of its own, which cannot be comprehended 
in that of another, not even in that of the 
earthly parent. I was glad that there was an 
infinite God to possess this infinite treasure 
and control it; for it was too much for me. 
My enjoyment of her was often overshadowed 
by these thoughts. Still she was to be a perfect 
joy. Her beautifully unfolding life left me noth- 
ing to desire 

But the destroyer came. It had been an ex- 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 189 

ceedlngly hot summer, and cholera infantum 
began to waste the little face and frame. We 
saw that she must die ; we nevertheless main- 
tained a cheerfulness of feeling which afterward 
seemed to us unnatural; but no doubt it was 
kindly given, to bear us through the trial. The 
last night that she was put to rest, her s^TQptoms 
were favorable ; but, early in the morning, the 
nurse whispered to me that the child " locked 
strange," and she led my way to the nursery. 
The little patient lay with her hand under her 
cheek, her eyes were raised and fixed on the 
wall. I supposed that she was watching a sha- 
dow, and I spoke to her by name. She did not 
move, nor did she turn her eyes ; I spoke again, 
and kissed her ; it was in vain ; the fearful truth 
flashed upon me that she was convulsed. We 
watched her till sundown, when she ceased to 
breathe. 

I fear that some of you will smile, if I say she 
seemed to me the sweetest little thing that ever 
died ; that, as she lay in her last sleep, no sight 
could be quite so beautiful and touching ; that 
the loss of a child never, probably, awoke such 
tenderness of love and such grief. Suffer me at 
least to think so, without debate. 

How can I tell you anything about the last 
sad scene at the grave? Enough to say that 



190 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

each of us kissed the sweet face ; we gazed on 
her a few moments, while tears ran down ; and 
some things were uttered, between speaking 
and crying, till at length her mother kneeled, 
and held her face near the little face, for a few 
moments, without a sound ; then drew the white 
embroidered blanket over the little thing, for it 
was a cold day : and thus the last " Now I lay 
me down to sleep " seemed to be said and heard. 
I closed the lid. " Lieth down and riseth not, 
till the heavens be no more ; " — what shall I 
have seen and known before I see this face 
again ! That simple thing, the closing of the 
lid, what a world of meaning was in it ! My 
thoughts were making a whirlpool about me, 
till my eye was taken by the nearer approach 
of a man, in his shirt-sleeves and rough working 
garb, who respectfully seemed to intimate. We 
are ready. Sir, when you are. O must we, 
must we part ? Must the grave have her ? 
With an effort, I said, " Thy will be done." I 
turned the key, and took it out of the lock, and 
understood how even good men could have 
opened their mouths, at certain times, against 
the day of their birth. We waited. In a few 
moments, one more little mound grew up from 
the earth ; the clods of the valley had become 
sweet to one more father and mother. 



LITTLE ONES IN HE A YEN. 191 

We rode away. I was glad that tlie horses 
started off so fast, though, for the first moment, 
it shocked me. I was expecting to move 
away at the slow, solemn pace with which 
we came. 

Turning a corner in the cemetery, a little 
stone over a little grave, the only one in the en- 
closure, caught my eye, as we drove past, with 
this inscription : Charlie. Ah, is Charlie 
dead? I felt very sorry. Who Charlie was, 
I did not know ; but his father, I thought, had 
been there on an errand like mine. Had I 
met him in the street, on my way home, some 
one pointing him out to me, I would have stop- 
ped him, and told him what I had seen, and 
that Agnes was dead. For a moment, the 
stream of my grief was broken and divided 
by that httle headstone, as a great river is di- 
vided by the delta at its mouth ; but it came to- 
gether again very soon. 

Agnes and the Little Key, 



They only truly mourn the dead, who en- 
deavor so to live as to insure a reunion in 
heaven. 



192 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



BABY'S DEAD. 

One day I chanced to meet, 
In the street, 
A pretty little child 
Crying bitterly and wild ; 
" What ails the little one ? " said I 
Sobbingly he made reply, 
As he raised his curly head, 
"Baby's dead!" 

" Nay, my darling, do not weep, 
Baby's only gone to sleep ; 
He will soon wake up again ! " 
But my words were all in vain ; 

" He has never slept so long ; 
He is gone, forever gone ; 
For, kind sir, my mother said 
"Baby's dead!" 

Then I took him by the hand. 
Strove to make him understand 
How far happier than we 
Baby was with Deity! 
But 't was throwing words away, 
For, ever and anon, he 'd say, 
As he, weeping, raised his head, 
"Baby's dead!" 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 193 

So within these hearts of ours, 
In life's later, autumn hours. 
Stricken hopes like withered flowers 

Eiustle as we tread : 
When some favorite wish is crossed, 
Or some cherished hope is lost, 
To our souls all tempest-tossed, 

"Baby's dead!'' 
• 
Kindly words and gentle deeds. 
To the heart that inly bleeds, 
Bring but little consolation 
To the spirit's desolation ; 
If, for aye, sweet Hope hath fled, 
" Baby 's dead ! " 

Forever dead ! 

Richard Coe. 

THEN AND NOW. 

The merry, merry lark was up and singing. 

And the hare was out and feeding on the lea. 
And the merry, merry bells below were ringing. 

When my child's laugh rang through me. 
Now the hare is snared, and lies dead beside the 
snow-yard. 

And the lark beside the dreary winter sea. 
And my baby in his cradle in the church-yard, 

Waiteth there until the bells bring me. 

1 7 KiNGSLB. 



194 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE DYING BOY. 

It mnst be sweet in ehildliood to give back 
The spirit to its Maker; ere the heart 
Has grown familiar with the paths of sin, 
And sown — to garner up its bitter fruits. 
I knew a boy whose infant feet had trod 
Upon the blossoms of some seven springs, * 
And when the eighth came round and called 

him out 
To revel in its light, he turned away, 
And sought his chamber to lie down and die. 
'T was night, he summoned his accustomed 

friends, 
And in this wise bestowed his last requests : — 

" Mother, I'm dying now ! 
There is deep suffocation in my breasv, 
As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed ; 
And on my brow 
I feel the cold sweat stand ; 
My lips grow dry and tremulous, and my breath 
Comes feebly up. O ! tell me, is this death ? 
Mother ! your hand — 

" Here, lay it on my wrist. 
And place the other now beneath my head ; 
And say, sweet mother, say, when I am dead, 
Shall I be miss'd ? 



I.ITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 195 

" Never, beside your knee, 
Shall I kneel down again at night to pray, 
Nor with the morning wake, and sing the lay 
You taught to me : 

! at the time of prayer. 
When you look round and see a vacant seat, 
You will not wait then for my coming feet — 

You '11 miss me there I 

" Father, Pm going home ! 
To the good home you spoke of: that blessed 

land 
Where it is one bright summer always, and 

Storms do not come : 

1 must be happy then, — 

From pain and death you say I shall be free, 
That sickness never enters there, and we 
Shall meet again ! 

" Brother ! the little spot 
I used to call my garden, where long hours 
We Ve strayed to watch the budding things and 
flowers, — 
Forget it not ! 

Plant there some box or pine : 
Something that lives in winter, and will be 
A verdant offering to my memory. 
And call it mine. 



196 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

" Sister ! my young rose-tree, 
That all the spring hath been my pleasant care, 
Just putting forth its leaves so green and fair, 

I give to thee ; 

And when its roses bloom, 
I shall be gone away — my short life gone : 
But will you not bestow a single one 

Upon my tomb ? 

" Now, mother, sing the tune 
You sang last night : I 'm weary, and must sleep ; 
Who was it called my name ? Nay, do not weep ; 
You '11 all come soon ! " 

Morning spread over earth her rosy wings, 
And that young sufferer, cold and ivory pale, 
Lay on his couch asleep. The gentle air 
Came through the opening window, freighted 

with 
The savory odors of the early spring : 
He breathed it not ; the laugh of passers-by 
Jarred like a discord in some mournful tune, 
But marred not his slumbers. He was dead ! 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 197 



THE OTHEK SIDE. 

Once, in a liappy home, a sweet, bright baby 
died. On the evening of the day, when the 
children gathered round their mother, all sitting 
very sorrowful, Alice, the eldest, said, " Mother, 
you took all the care of baby while she was 
here, and you carried and held her in your 
arms all the while she was ill. Now, mother, 
wlio took her on the other side ? " " On the other 
side of what, Alice ? " " On the other side of 
death; who took the baby on the other side, 
mother? she was so little she could not go 
alone." " Jesus met her there," answered the 
mother. > " It is He who took little children in 
His arms to bless them, and said, '• Suffer them 
to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven ! ' He took the 
baby on the other side." 

THE GIFT. 

Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, 
Her false imagined loss cease to lament. 

And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild 
Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render Him with patience what He lent. 

Milton. 
17* 



198 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



LITTLE HERBERT. 

Gather all his playthings up ; 

We shall never see them more, 
From his dimpled, dainty hands, 

Wildly thrown about the floor. 

He is weary of them all, 

Cares no more with them to play ; 
Leaving them, he hallows them : 

Lay them lovingly away. 

He hath heard the words of blessing, 
Bidding little children " Come ; " 

Earthly love cannot detain him 
Longer from his heavenly home. 

Fold his little snowy hands. 
Lay them gently on his breast ; 

Now he lieth still and calm, — 
Vision fair of perfect rest. 

Bless him in his beauty there, — 
Bless his solemn slumber deep ; 
" God's beloved, early crowned 

With the mystic sign of " sleep.'** 

* " He giveth his Tbeloved sleep." 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEK. 199 

Oft we prayed that angels might 
Keep their watch about his bed : 

We can trust their vigils now, 
They will guard our infant dead. 

While the silence in the house 

Speaketh to us of our grief, 
We will thank our God, who gave 

Only for a season brief. 

Mild and winning were his ways ; 

Very happy seemed he here ; 
Bright the sunshine that he brought 

With him from the upper sphere. 

One brief year he blessed our home, 
Filled our hearts with light and love, 

Added to our lives a joy 

That can never more remove. 

All his grace and innocence 

Hath increased our being's store ; 

What Grod giveth once is ours, — 
Ours, with Him, for evermore. 

Now, a little hand is pointing 
Heavenward, as we journey on ; 

May it guide us, and receive us. 
When our earthly work is done 

Mrs. S. F. Clapp. 



200 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



CONSOLATION AT THE GEAYE. 

Eev. Egbert Hall, in speaking of the 
death of his little son, says, '' Grod dries up the 
channels, that you may be happily compelled 
to plunge into an infinite ocean of happiness." 
Blissful thought ! Father, mother, you who mourn 
over the grave of your little one, look up ! know 
that the chastening rod is in your heavenly 
Father's hand, and that if He hath taken away, 
He first did give, and He doeth all things well. 
He gave you the bud of beauty, and you cen- 
tred your happiness in its being. He saw that 
this was not for your good, so He took away the 
child, whose presence had been as a leaping, 
sparkHng streamlet to your heart's love, that 
that heart which had before but tasted of earthly, 
might be lost in the immensity of heavenly love. 



LOVE BLESSED, EVEN IN ITS LOSSES. 

This truth came borne with bier and pall, 
I felt it, when I sorrowed most, 
'T is better to have loved and lost, 

Than never to have loved at all. 

Tenittson. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 201 



LITTLE CHAELIE. 

A VIOLET grew by the river-side, 

And gladdened all hearts with its bloom ; 
While over the fields, on the scented air, 

It breathed a rich perfume. 
But the clouds grew dark in the angry sky, 

And its portals were opened wide ; 
And the heavy rain beat down the flower 

That grew by the river-side. 

Not far away, in a pleasant home, 

There lived a little boy, 
Whose cheerful face and childish grace 

Filled every heart with joy. 
He wandered one day to the river's verge, 

With no one near to save ; 
And the heart that we loved with a boundless 
love 

Was stilled in the restless wave. 

The sky grew dark to our tearful eyes. 

And we bade farewell to joy ; 
For our hearts were bound by a sorrowful tie 

To the grave of the little boy. 



202 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

The birds still sing In the leafy tree 

That shadows the open door ; 
We heed them not, for we think of the voice 

That we shall hear no more. 

We think of him at eventide, 

And gaze on his vacant chair 
With a longing heart, that will scarce believe 

That Charlie is not there. 
We seem to hear his ringing laugh, 

And his bounding step at the door , 
But, alas ! there comes the sorrowful thought, 

We shall never hear them more ! 

We shall walk sometimes to his little grave 

In the pleasant summer hours ; 
We will speak his name in a softened voice, 

And cover his grave with flowers ; 
We will think of him in his heavenly home, — 

His heavenly home so fair ; 
And we will trust with a hopeful trust 

That we shall meet him there. 

Horatio Algek, Jr. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 203 



THE DEOWNED CHILD. 

Push away the dripping ringlets 
From the childish brow and fair ; 

Weep, and kiss the little sleeper, 
Lying in his beauty there. 

See the eyelid's silken fringes, 

Sweeping o'er the cheek of snow ; 

Never more may tear-drop gather 
In the eyes that sparkled so. 

Ask the waters if they heard not, 
As they gleamed and flashed away, 

Sound of angel-pinions, blending 
With the music of their spray ? 

If they saw not, in the sunlight, 
Angel forms from heaven come — 

Come to bear away our Willie 
To his bright and starry home ? 

Little Pilgrim. 



204 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE PEARL AND THE SHELL. 

A HOST of angels flying, 

Through cloudless skies impelled, 

Upon the earth beheld 
A pearl of beauty lying. 

Worthy to glitter bright 

In heaven's vast halls of light. 

Thej saw, with glances tender, 
An infant newly born, 
O'er whom life's earliest morn 

Just cast its opening splendor : 
"Virtue it could not know, 
Nor vice, nor joy, nor woe. 

The blest angelic lesfion 
Greeted its birth above, ~ 
And came with looks of love. 

From heaven's enchanting region , 
Bending their winged way 
To where the infant lay. 

They spread their pinions o'er it, — 
That little pearl which shone 
With lustre all its own, — 

And then on high they bore it, 
Where glory has its birth: — 
But left the shell on earth. 
17* 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN, 205 



THE MOTHEE'S DREAM. 

There was once a mother, kneeling by the 
bedside of the little one whom she hourly ex- 
pected to lose. With what eyes of passionate 
love had she watched every change in that 
beautiful face ! How had her eyes pierced the 
heart of the physician, at his last visit, when 
they glared rather than asked the question 
whether there yet was hope ! How had she 
wearied Heaven with vows that if it would but 
grant — "Ah," you say ''you can imagine all 
that without any difficulty at all." Imagine 
this too. Overwearied with watching, she fell 
into a doze beside the couch of her infant, and 
she dreamt in a few moments (as we are wont 
to do) the seeming history of long years. She 
thought she heard a voice from heaven say to 
her, as to Hezekiah, " I have seen thy tears, I 
have heard thy prayers ; he shall live ; and 
yourself shall have the roll of his history pre- 
sented to you." " Ah ! " you say, " you can 
imagine all tliat too." And straightway she 
thought she saw her sweet child in the bloom 
of health, innocent and playful as her fond 
heart could wish. Yet a little while, and she 
saw him in the flush of opening youth ; beautiful 
18 



206 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

as ever, but beautiful as a young panther, from 
whose eyes wild flashes and fitful passion ever 
and anon gleamed ; and she thought how beau- 
tiful he looked, even in these moods, for she 
was a mother. But she also thought how many 
tears and sorrows may be needful to temper or 
quench these fires ! And she se med to follow 
him through a rapid succession of scenes — 
now of troubled sunshine — now of deep gather- 
ing gloom. His sorrows were all of a common 
lot, but involved a sense of agony far greater 
than that which slie would have felt from his 
early loss ; yes, greater even to her — and how 
much greater to him ! She saw him more than 
once wrestling with pangs more agonizing than 
those which now threatened his infancy ; she 
saw him involved in error, and with difficulty 
extricating himself; betrayed into youthful sins, 
and repenting with scalding tears ; she saw 
him half ruined by transient prosperity, and 
scourged into tardy wisdom only by long ad- 
versity ; she saw him worn and haggard with 
care, — his spirit crushed, and his early beauty 
all wan and blasted; worse still, she saw him 
thrice stricken with that very shaft which she 
had so dreaded to feel but once, and mourned 
to think that her prayers had prevailed to pre- 
vent her own sorrows only to multiply his ; 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 207 

worst of all she saw him, as she thought, in a 
darkened chamber, kneeling beside a coffin in 
which youth and beauty slept their last sleep ; 
and as it seemed, her own image stood beside 
him, and uttered unheeded love to a sorrow 
that " refused to be comforted," and as she 
gazed on that face of stony despair she seemed 
to hear a voice which said, " If thou wilt have 
thy floweret of earth unfold on earth, thou must 
not wonder at bleak winters and inclement 
skies, /would have transplanted it to a more 
genial clime ; but thou wouldest not." And 
with a cry of terror she awoke. She turned 
to the sleeping figure before her, and sobbing, 
hoped it was sleeping its last sleep. She list- 
ened for his breathing — she heard none ; she 
lifted the taper to his lips — the flame wavered 
not; he had indeed passed away while she 
dreamed that he lived ; and she rose from her 
knees, and was comforted. " Ah ! " you will 
say, " these sorrows could never have been 
the lot of my sweet child ! " It is hard to set 
one's logic against a mother's love ; I can only 
remind you, my dear cousin, that it has been 
the lot of thousands, whose mothers, as their 
little ones crowed and laughed in their arms 
in childish happiness, would have sworn to the 
same impossibility. But for you^ — you know 



208 LITTLE ONES IK HEAVEN. 

"wliat they could only believe ; that it is an im- 
possibility. Nay, I might bint at yet pro- 
founder consolation, if, indeed, there ever ex- 
isted a mother who could fancy that, in the 
case of her own child, it could ever be needed. 
Yet facts sufficiently show us, that what the 
dreaming mother saw — errors retrieved, sins 
committed but repented of, and sorrows that 
taught wisdom — are not always seen, and that 
children may in spite of all, persist in exploring 
the path of evil — " deeper and deeper still!" 
With the shadow of uncertainty whether it may 
not be so with any child, is there no consolation 
in thinking that even that shadow has passed 
away ? For aught we know, many and many 
a mother may hereafter hear her lost darling 
say — " Sweet mother, I was taken from you 
a little while, only that I might abide with you 
forever ! " 

Greyson Letters, by Henry Rogers. 



I SEE THEM THERE. 

My beautiful, my blest ! 
I see them there, by the Great Spirit's throne ; 
With winning words, and fond beseeching tone, 

They woo me to my rest. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEK. 209 



THREIs^ODIA, 

Gone, gone from us ! and shall we see 
Those sybil-leaves of destiny, 

Those calm eyes, nevermore ? 
Those deep, dark eyes so warm and bright, 

Wherein the features of the man 
Lay slumbering in prophetic light, 

In characters a child might scan ? 
So bright, and gone forth utterly ! 
O stern word — Nevermore ! 

The stars of those two gentle eyes 

Will shine no more on earth ; 

Quenched are the hopes that had their birth, 
As we watched them slowly rise, 

Stars of a mother's fate ; 
And she would read them o'er and o'er, 
Pondering as she sate. 

Over their dear astrology 
Which she had conned and conned before, 
Deemino^ she needs must read ariojht 
What was writ so passing bright. 

And yet, alas ! she knew not why 
Her voice would falter in its song, 

And tears would slid^ from out her eye^ 
Silent, as they were doing wrong; 

stern word — Nevermore t 
18* 



210 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

The tongue that scarce had learned to claim 

An entrance to a mother's heart 
By that dear talisman, a mother's name, 

Sleeps all forgetful of its art ! 
I loved to see the infant soul 
(How mighty in the weakness 
Of its untutored meekness !) 
Peep timidly from out its nest, 

His lips, the while. 
Fluttering with half-iledged words, 
Or hushing to a smile 

That more than words expressed, 
When his glad mother on him stole 

And snatched him to her breast ! 
O, thoughts were brooding in those eyes, 
That would have soared hke strong- winged birds 

Far, far, into the skies, 
Gladdening the earth with song. 

And gushing harmonies, 
Had he but tarried with us long ! 

O stern word — Nevermore ! 

How peacefully they rest, 

Cross-folded there 
Upon his httle breast. 
Those small, white hands that ne'er were still 

before, 
But ever sported with his mother's hair, 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 211 

Or the plain cross that on her breast she wore ! 
Her heart no more will beat 

To feel the touch of that soft palm, 
That ever seemed a new surprise, 
Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes, 

To bless him with their holy calm, — 
Sweet thoughts ! they made her eyes as sweet. 

How quiet are the hands 

That wove those pleasant bands ! 
But that they do not rise and sink 
With his calm breathing, I should think 

That he were dropped asleep. 

Alas ! too deep, too deep 
Is this his slumber ; 
Time scarce can number 
The years ere he will wake again. 
O, may we see his eyelids open then I 

O stern word — Nevermore I 

As the airy gossamere, 

Floating in the sunlight clear, 
"Where'er it toucheth clingeth tightly, 
R.ound glossy leaf or stump unsightly, 
So from his spirit wandered out 
Tendrils spreading all about, 
Knittincr all thino-s to its thrall 
With a perfect love of all : 
O stern word — Nevermore ! 



212 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

He did but float a little waj 

Adown the stream of time, 
With dreamy eyes watching the ripples play, 

Or listening their fairy chime ; 
His slender sail 
Ne'er felt the gale ; 
He did but float a little way, 

And, putting to the shore, 
While yet 't was early day. 
Went calmly on his way, 

To dwell with us no more ; 
No jarring did he feel, 
No grating on his vessel's keel ; 
A strip of silver sand 
Mingled the waters with the land 

Where he was seen no more : 

O stern word — Nevermore ! 

Full short his journey was ; no dust 

Of earth unto his sandals clave ; 
The weary weight that old men must. 

He bore not to the grave. 
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way 
And wandered hither, so his stay 

With us was short, and 't was most meet 
That he should be no delver in earth's clod, 

Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet 

To stand before his God : 

O blest word — Evermore I 

J. R. Lowell. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 213 



GOD KNOWS WHAT IS BEST EOE US. 

Mourner, whatever may be your grief for 
the death of your children, it might have been 
still greater for their life. Bitter experience 
once led a good man to say, "It is better to 
weep for ten children dead, than for one liv- 
ing." Bemember the heart-piercing affliction 
of David, whose son sought his life. Your 
love for your children will hardly admit of 
the thought of such a thing as possible, in 
your own case. They appeared innocent and 
amiable ; and you fondly believed, that through 
your care and prayers, they would have be- 
come the joy of your hearts. But may not 
Esau, when a child, have promised as much 
comfort to his parents as Jacob? Probably 
he had as many of their prayers and counsels. 
But as years advanced, he despised their ad- 
monitions, and filled their hearts with grief. 
As a promoter of family religion, who ever re- 
ceived such an encomium from the God of 
heaven as Abraham ? How tenderly did the 
good man pray for Ishmael ! " O that Ishmael 
might live before Thee 1 " Yet how little com- 
fort did Ishmael afford. 



214 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Alas ! in these days of degeneracy, parents 
much more frequently witness the vices of their 
children, than their virtues. And even should 
your children prove amiable and promising, 
you might live to be the wretched witness of 
their sufferings. Some parents have felt unut- 
terable agonies of this kind. 

God may have taken the lamented objects 
of your affection from the evil to come. When 
extraordinary calamities are coming on the 
world, He frequently hides some of His feebler 
children in the grave. Surely, at such a por- 
tentous period, it is happier for such as are 
prepared, to be lodged in that peaceful man- 
sion, than to be exposed to calamities and dis- 
tresses here. Thus intimates the prophet Jere- 
miah, " Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan 
him ; but weep sore for him that goeth away ; 
for he shall return no more, nor see his native 
country.'* It was in a day when the faith and 
patience of the saints were peculiarly tried, 
that the voice from heaven said, " W^rite, 
blessed are the dead, which die in the Lord, 
from henceforth." 

Flavel. 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN, 215 



TO A DEPARTED CHILD. 

I YIELD thee unto higher spheres ; 

I bend my head and say, " Thy will, 
Not mine, be done," though bitter tears 

The while mine eyelids fill. 

I know thou hast escaped the blight 
That wilts us here, and entered now 

To perfect day, — though in the night 
Bereft of thee we bow. 

And yet thy little sunny life 

Was beautiful as it was brief: 
It was not vexed by pain or strife, 

It knew but little grief. 

The sunshine from our house is gone. 

And from our hearts their peace and joy; 
We feel so terribly alone 

Without thee, deai'est boy ! 

Thou mad'st us feel how very fair 

God's earth could be, and taught us love; 

And in Hfe's tapestry of care 
A golden figure wove. 



216 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 

Brave as we will our hearts to bear, 
Grief will not wholly be denied ; 

The ineffectual dikes we rear 
Go down before its tide. 

We lie all prostrate, — cannot feel 
God's love ; we only cry aloud, 
'' O God ! O God ! " for all things reel, 
And God hides in a cloud. 

We blindly wail, for we are maimed 

Beyond repair, until at last 
He lifts us up, — all bleeding, lamed, 

And shattered by the blast. 

He asks, " And would you wish him back. 
Whom I have taken to my joy, — • 

Drag downward to life's narrow track 
Your little spirit boy ? " 

" No ! no ! " the spirit makes reply, — 
" Not back to earthly chance and pain ;" 

*' Yet ah ! " the shattered senses cry, 
" Would he were here again ! " 

He was so meshed within our love 
That all our heart-strings bleeding lie, 

And all fond hopes we round him wove 
Are now but agony. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 217 

Yet let us suffer ; lie is freed, 

And on our tears a brido^e of lioflit 

Is built by God, his steps to lead 
To joys beyond our sight. 

William W. Story. 



EPITAPH PKOM AN IRISH COUNTRY 
CHURCHYARD. 

A LITTLE spirit slumbers here, 

Who to one heart was very dear. 

Oh ! he was more than life or light, 

Its thought by day — its dream by night ! 

The chill winds came — the young flower faded 

And died — the grave its sweetness shaded. 

Fair boy ! thou shouldst have wept for me, 

Not I have had to mourn o*er thee ; 

Yet not Ions shall this sorrowincr be — 

Those roses I have planted round, 

To deck thy dear and sacred ground, 

When spring-gales next those roses wave 

They'll blush upon thy mother's grave. 

19 



218 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



LITTLE CHILDEEN KNOCKING AT THE 
GATE OF HEAVEN. 

Hark ! at heaven's crystal gates 

Little hands are faintly sounding, 
While a guardian angel waits, 

All her soul with rapture bounding ; 
To that angel it is given, 

For her holy life on earth, 
To receive three babes in heaven, 

In their new celestial birth. 

A timid hand at first essays 

To undo the portal fair. 
And the angel veils the blaze 

Of the glory everywhere ; 
" I am lonely, I am lonely 1 

Now I see no darling brother. 
No fond father ! Angel, only, — 

Take, O take me to my mother ! " 

But the angel, with caresses. 

Gently leads the cherub in. 
And the young immortal blesses. 

Saved from sorrow and from sin. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 219 

Soon the little stranger's fright 

Passes like a cloud away, 
While the day that knows no night 

Shines upon her heavenly play. 

Hark again ! a gentle tap 

Echoes through the angel's heart ; 
And the child upon her lap 

In her sacred joy has part : — 
Little arms enfold the stranger, 

Little lips the kiss have given ; 
" Here 's no sorrow, here 's no danger I 

Darling sister, this is heaven ! *' 

Yet again, and louder sounding, 

Falls a knock on heaven's gate, — 
And the infant cherubs bounding, 

Will not let their brother wait ; 
Eyes that closed in weariness, 

Lips that murmured sad farewell, 
Open in celestial bliss 

With the sisters loved so well. 

Now their angel with dehght 

Leads them onward, hand in hand, 

And reveals to eager sight 
Glories of the spirit-land. 



220 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

Happy cMldren I thus to flee 
Early to their home above ! 

Happy those below, to be 

Upward drawn by chords of love ! 



SUBMISSION. 

Like a bowed lily lies her fair young head : 
Cold in her shroud : colder the heart below I 
No more the feverish pulses come and go ; 

The watchers are the watchers of the dead. 

Sad eyes that saw her fade, are full of tears ; 

Fond hands that smoothed her pillow, clasped 
in prayer ; 

And love goes waiHng in its dark despair, 
Till the sweet dawning of God's grace appears 

O blest the soul whose lips of faith can say 
In the storm lulls of grief — " Thy will be 

done!" 
O blest the soul that trusts that Holy One, 
Who in His bosom bears His lambs away ! 

HakFvIet McEwen Kimball. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 221 



THE LOSS OF A CHILD. 

To those who have lost a child, — who have 
seen the little one, whose prattling joy had 
been the sweet music that cheered the sorrow- 
ing hour, go down with a disease as a plucked 
flower withers before the scorching sun, — it is 
sad to read an obituary notice even of a stranger 
child. The loss of a sweet and beloved child Is 
a sorrow of which none but those who have 
suffered can have the least realizing sense ; it Is 
unlike that of any other relation ; it is not like 
the tearing off simply of a limb, but unwinding 
and breaking to pieces the little tendrils that 
have grown around the heart and become part 
of one's self. It is the opening of all the feelings., 
and pouring sorrow in at every pore. From the 
first recognition of the child, when it ttirns its 
infant eye upon its parents, hope, expectation, 
and joy, mingled with the dread of some unfore- 
seen difficulty or sorrow, spring up in the soul 
and grow with its growth, and strengthen with 
its strength, until they become the leading feat- 
ure of our affections. What the little one will 
he, more than what he is, is what we love. 
What we hope for, and what we expect, more 

than what we see and know, are the ties that 
19# 



222 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

bind us to our children. Every development of 
character, every new sign of increasing knowl- 
edge, every new idea or thought, or show of 
reason, is noticed, caught up, and loved; and 
we clasp them every day to our breast "svith new 
emotions and stronger affections. The first smile 
creates a new affection, the laugh another ; the 
recognition adds its tendril, the first step, the 
asking look, the sign of joy at being understood, 
the new plea for something desired, the attempt 
to do some manly act, — all add, one after 
another, a strand to the chords that bind the 
child to the parent's heart ; we live in the joy 
of hope and bright expectation, — hope it will 
become a still greater object of pride, in increas- 
ing joy and delight. Thus the little one, in 
whom we live ourselves, binds itself, day by 
day, stronger and stronger to our hearts and 
affections, until it becomes a part of our exist- 
ence, and its separation and death the most 
agonizing of all conceivable sorrow. Death, at 
all times, even under the least trying circum- 
stances, is a sad thing, and leaves its mark deep 
in the memory of the living ; but the death of a 
bright, cheerful, happy child, whose laugh has 
rung out sweet and clear as the song of the 
morning lark, and echoed through every room 
with a sweeter music ; whose tottering steps and 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 223 

prattling tongue ever gave joy to the houseliold, 
and whose pleasant, gleeful mirth touched every 
ear, and brought a quick response, — who gave 
delight to all, and was really a well-spring of 
pleasure to the soul, — leaves an impression 
never to be effaced. It changes joy into sad- 
ness, and gives a gloomy, dark and sorrowful 
shade to ever}i:hing that before was pleasant 
and agreeable. The doors creak louder on 
their hinges — the unfrequented rooms are stiller, 
darker, gloomier — the wind has a deeper moan 
— the very sunshine and the storm seem to speak 
in subdued tones. The vacant chair at the table, 
the empty crib, the little shoes on the shelf, the 
hat on the hook, the broken toy, the little wagon 
— all say "He is gone." '• Dead" is wntten on 
the knobs of the doors, engraved on the win- 
dows, and stamped on everything. The trees, 
the flowers, the npening fruit, and the wa™g 
harvest, echo back, '' He is gone I " Tears start 
unbidden from the eyes, and the deepest affec- 
tions of the soul gush forth in sorrow and 
anguish. 

NaTHAKIEI* K. STIMSOIi. 



224 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 



OUR BESSIE. 

Our Bessie was as sweet a girl 

As ever happy motlier kissed, 
And when our Father called her home, 

How sadly was she missed ! 
For, grave or gay, or well or ill, 

She had her thousand winning ways, 
And mingled youthful innocence 

With all her tasks and plays. 

How softly beamed her happy smile. 

Which played around the sweetest mouth 
That ever fashioned infant words ; 

The sunshine of the south, 
Mellowed and soft, was in her eye, 

And brifT^htened through her polden hair ; 
And all that lived and loved, I ween, 

Did her affection share. 

With reverent voice she breathed her prayer, 

With gentlest tones she sung her hymn ; 
And when she talked of heaven, our eyes 

With tears of joy were dim. 
Yet in our selfish grief we wept. 

When last her lips upon us smiled ; 
O ! could we, when our Father called. 

Detain the happy child ? 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 225 

Our home Is poor, and cold our clime, 

And misery mingles with our mirth j 
'T was meet our Bessie should depart 

From such a weary earth. 
O ! she is safe — no cloud can dim 

The brightness of her ransomed soul ; 
Nor trials vex, nor tempter lure 

Her spirit from its goal. 

We wrapt her in her snow-white shroud, 

And crossed, with sadly tender care, 
Her little hands upon her breast, 

And smoothed her sunny hair. 
We kissed her cheek, and kissed her brow, 

And if aright we read the smile 
That lingered on the dear one's lips. 

It told of heaven the while ! 

' W. H. Burleigh. 



GRIEF. 

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, 
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; 
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
Remembers me of all his gracious parts, 
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form : 
Then have I reason to be fond of grief 

Shakspeare. 



226 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



CAS A WAPPY.* 

And hast thou sought thy heavenly home, 

Our fond, dear boy — 
The realms where sorrow dare not comej 

Where life is joy ? 
Pure at thy death as at thy birth, 
Thy spirit caught no taint from earth ; 
Even by its bliss we mete our death, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Despair was in our last farewell. 

As closed thine eye ; 
Tears of our anguish may not tell 

When thou didst die ; 
Words may not paint our grief for thee, 
Sighs are but bubbles on the sea 
Of our unfathomed agony, 

Casa Wappy 1 

Thou wert a vision of delight 

To bless us given ; 
Beauty embodied to our sight, 

A type of heaven ; 

* The self-conferred pet name of an infant son of the 
poetj snatched away after a very brief illness. 



LITTLE ONES LNT HEATEX, 227 

So dear to us thou wert, thou art 
Even less thine own self than a part 
Of mine and of thy mother's heart, 
Casa Wappy! 

Thy bright brief day knew no decline, 

'T was cloudless joy ; 
Sunrise and night alone were thine, 

Beloved boy I 
This mom beheld thee blithe and gay, 
That found thee prostrate in decay, 
And ere a third shone, clay was clay, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Gem of our hearth, our household pride, 

Earth's undefiled I 
Could love have saved, thou hadst not died, 

Our dear, sweet child I 
Humbly we bow to fate's decree ; 
Yet had we hoped that time should see 
Thee mourn for us, not us for thee, 
Casa "Wappy! 

Do what I may. go where I will, 

Thou meet'st my sight ; 
There dost thou glide before me still, 

A form of liizht ! 



228 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

I feel tliy breath upon my cheek — 
I see thee smile, I hear thee speak — 
Till, oh ! my heart is like to break, 
Casa Wappy 1 

Methinks thou smil'st before me now, 

With glance of stealth ; 
The hair thrown back from thy full brow 

In buoyant health ; 
I see thine eyes' deep violet light. 
Thy dimpled cheek carnationed bright, 
Thy clasping arms so round and white, 
Casa Wappy ! 

The nursery shows thy pictured wall. 

Thy bat, thy bow. 
Thy cloak and bonnet, club and ball : 

But where art thou ? 
A corner holds thine empty chair. 
Thy playthings, idly scattered there, 
But speak to us of our despair, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Even to the last thy every word — 

To glad, to grieve — 
Was sweet as sweetest song of bird 

On summer's eve ; 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 229 

In outward beauty undecayed, 
Death o'er thy spirit cast no shade, 
And, like the rainbow, thou didst fade, 
Casa Wappy ! 

We mourn for thee when blind, blank night 

The chamber fills ; 
We pine for thee when morn's first light 

Reddens the hills ; 
The sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, 
All, to the wall flower and wild pea, 
Are chanored — we saw the world through 
thee, 

Casa Wappy ! 

And though, perchance, a smile may gleam 

Of casual mirth, 
It doth not own, whate'er may seem. 

An inward birth ; 
We miss thy small step on the stair ; 
We miss thee at thine evening prayer ! 
All day we miss thee everywhere, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Snows muffled earth when thou didst go, 

In life's spring-bloom, 
Down to the appointed house below, 

The silent tomb. 
20 



230 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN, 

But now tlie green leaves of the tree, 
The cuckoo and the "busy bee," 
Eeturn — but with them bring not thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 

'T is so ; but can it be, (while flowers 

Kevive again) — 
Man's doom, in death that we and ours 

For aye remain ? 
O ! can it be that o'er the grave 
The grass renewed shall yearly wave, 
Yet God forget our child to save ? — 
Casa Wapj)y ! 

It cannot be ; for were it so 

Thus man could die, 
Life were a mockery ; Thought were wo, 

And Truth a lie ; 
Heaven were a coinage of the brain, 
Religion frenzy. Virtue vain, 
And all our hopes to meet again 
Casa Wappy ! 

Then be to us, O dear, lost child ! 

With beam of love, 
A star, death's uncongenial wild 

Smiling above. 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAVEN. 231 

Soon, soon tliy little feet liave trod * 

The sk}"ward path, the seraph's road, 
That led thee back from man to God, 
Casa Wappy I 

Yes, 't is sweet balm to our despair, 

Fond, fairest boy, 
That heaven is God's, and thou art there, 

With Him in joy ; 
There past are death and all its "woes. 
There beauty's stream forever flows, 
And pleasure's day no sunset knows, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Farewell, then — for awhile, farewell — 

Pride of my heart ! 
It cannot be that long w^e dwell, 

Thus torn apart ; 
Time's shadows like the shuttle flee ; 
And, dark howe'er life's night may be, 
Beyond the grave I '11 meet with thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 

D. M. Mom. 



How the world falls to pieces round about us, 
And leaves us in a ruin of our joy ! 

YOUKG. 



232 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



TO MY CHILD. 

Come back to me, my child ! I call thee ever, 
All the day long I listen for thy voice, — 
The ringing laugh that made my heart rejoice J 
I miss it 'midst life's languishment and fever ! 
For thy blue eyes of love and light I pine, — 

Thy twining arms — thy frequent soft caress : 
Like balmiest summer, stole thy lips to mine. 
Oh! at still eve, my heart how didst thou 
bless ! 
Come back, my child ! I wander hopeless-hearted 
Where'er thy little feet have dancing stray'd ; 
Sad is the home whence thy sweet face hath 
parted — 
Silent the nursery where thou*st prattling 
played ! 
Earth wears for me but one unvarying gloom, 
O'ershadowed by the thought that thou art in the 
tomb! 

Come back to me, my child! though but in 
dreams — 

Thine angel-image let me clasp once more ! 
If, haply, o'er my couch still slumber gleams, 

The night-time may thy rosy lips restore, — 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 233 

Thy downy cheek laid lovingly to mine, — 
Thy sweet "my mother," in thy dreaming 
sleep — 
While thy small arms around me closer twine. 

My idol-boy ! I wake to weep, 
Never again on earth shall I behold thee ! 

Thou 'st left my side, and gone to other rest ! 
My child ! I know the Saviour's arms enfold 
thee, — 
I know thou leanest' on his pitying breast, 
A blessed lot ! My child ! O, ask for me. 
That where thy home is, mine ere long may be ! 

Mks. E. J. Eames. 

BEYOND THE RIVER. 

There are our loved ones in their rest ; 

They 've crossed Time's river — now no more 
They heed the bubbles on its breast, 

Nor feel the storms that sweep its shore 
But there pure love can live, can last — 

They look for us their home to share : 
When we in turn away have passed, 

What joyful greetings wait us there, 
Beyond the river. 



When the wind blows, the blossoms fall ; 
But a good God reigns over all ! 
20* 



234 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



DEW. 

" O, DEAREST mother, tell me, pray, 

Why are the dewdrops gone so soon ? 
Could they not stay till close of day, 
To twinkle on the flowery spray, 
Or on the field till noon ? " 

" My child, 't is said such beauteous things, 
Too often loved with vain excess. 
Are swept away by angel-wings, 
Before contamination clings 
To their pure loveliness. 

" Behold yon rainbow brightening yet, 
To which all mingled hues are given ; 
There are thy dew-drops, grandly set 
In a resplendent coronet 
Upon the brow of Heaven. 

" No earthly stain can reach them there ; 
Woven with sunbeams there they shine, 
A transient vision of the air, 
But yet a symbol pure and fair. 
Of love and peace divine." 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 235 

The child looked upward into space 
With eager and enquiring eyes, 

And o'er its sweet and thoughtful face 

Came a faint glory, and a grace 
Transmitted from the skies. 

With the last odorous sigh of May, 

That child beneath the flowers was laid ; 

Like dew, its spirit passed away 

To mingle in eternal day, 
With angels perfect made. 

Household Words. 



MY CHILD. 

A LIGHT is from our household gone, 

A voice we loved is stilled. 
A place is vacant at our hearth 

AVhich never can be filled ; 
A gentle heart, that throbbed but now 

With tenderness and love, 
Has hushed its weary throbbings here, 

To throb in bliss above. 
Yes, to the home where angels are, 

Her trusting soul has fled, 
And yet we bend above the tomb 

With tears, and call her dead. 
We call her dead, but ah ! we know 
She dwells where living waters flow. 



236 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



THE LITTLE BOY'S BURIAL. 

Two dark-eyed maids, at shut of day, 
Sat where a river rolled away, 
With calm, sad brows, and raven hair, 
And one was pale, and both were fair. 

Bring flowers, they sang, bring flowers unblown, 
Bring forest blooms of name unknown ; 
Bring budding sprays from wood and wild, 
To strew the bier of Love, the child. 

Close softly, fondly, while ye weep, 
His eyes, that death may seem like sleep. 
And fold his hands in sign of rest, 
His waxen hands, across his breast. 

And make his grave where violets hide. 
Where star-flowers strew the rivulet's side. 
And blue-birds in the misty spring 
Of cloudless skies and summer sing. 

Place near him, as ye lay him low. 
His idle shafts, his loosened bow. 
The silken fillet that around 
His waggish eyes in sport he wound. 



LITTLE ONES IK HEAVEN. 237 

But we shall mourn him long, and miss 

His ready smile, his ready kiss, 

The patter of his little feet, 

Sweet frowns and stammered phrases sweet ; 

And graver looks, serene and high, 
A light of heaven in that young eye. 
All these shall haunt us till the heart 
Shall ache and ache — and tears will start 

The bow, the band shall fall to dust, 
The shining arrows w^aste with rust. 
And all of Love that earth can claim, 
Be but a memory and a name. 

Not thus his nobler part shall dwell, 
A prisoner in this narrow cell ; 
But he whom now we hide from men, 
In the dark ground, shall live again. 

Shall break these clods, a form of light, 
With nobler mien, and purer sight, 
And in the eternal glory stand. 
Highest and nearest God's right hand. 

Bryant. 



Affliction is the good man's shining scene ; 
Prosperity conceals his brightest ray. 
As night to stars, nor lustre gives to man. 



238 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



CAN I WISH HIM BACK AGAIN? 

Could I wish that this young inhabitant of 
heaven should be degraded to earth again ? Or 
would it thank me for that wish? Would it 
say that it was the part of a wise parent, to call 
it down from a sphere of such exalted services 
and pleasures, to our low life here upon earth ? 
Let me rather be thankful for the pleasing hope, 
that though God loves my child too well to per- 
mit it to return to me, he will, ere long, bring 
me to it. And then that endeared paternal 
affection, which would have been a cord to tie 
me to earth, and have added new pangs to my 
removal from it, will be as a golden chain to 
draw me upwards, and add one further charm 

and joy even to paradise itself. 

Doddridge. 



THE FIRST TENANT. 

And now one of our family is gone to take 
possession of the sepulchre in all our names. 
Ere long I shall lie down with my child. It is a 
warning of Providence, that these concluding 
days of my life may be more regular, more 
spiritual, more useful, than the former. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 239 



DEAD LITTLE ONES. 

"The harp of heaven 
Had lacked its least, "but not its meanest string, 
Had children not heen taught to play upon it." 

Bereaved mother ! take comfort in the 
thought that your little ones are safe in the 
heavenly home. A father once said, " I have 
had six children ; and I bless God that they are 
all either with Christ, or in Christ, and my mind 
is now at rest concerning them. My desire was 
that they should have served Christ on earth ; 
but if God will choose to have them rather serve 
him in heaven, / liave notlmg to object to it," 

Mother ! listen ! Two dear children were one 
day seen very ill in the same room ; the oldest 
of the two was heard frequently attempting to 
teach the younger one to pronounce the word 
"Hallelujah!" but without success; the dear 
Httle one died before he could repeat it. When 
his brother was told of his death, he was silent 
for a moment, and then looking up at his 
mother, said, "Johnny can say 'Hallelujah' 
now, mother ! " In a few hours the two little 
brothers were united in heaven, singing "Hal- 
lelujah!" together. Mothers! many of your 



240 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

little ones could not sing the praises of their 
Redeemer, while resting in your arms, but they 
have been taught the music of the upper temple 
now, and they sing among the celestial choristers ! 



DEATH'S GENTLEST STROKE. 

The soul of the cherub child, that dies on its 
mother's breast, wings its way to heaven, uncon- 
scious of the joys it might share here, as well as 
of the many, many miseries of which it might be 
partaker. This can hardly be called death. It 
is but the calm, soft ebbing of the gentle tide of 
life, to flow no more in the troubled ocean of 
existence ; it is but the removal of a fair creat- 
ure, — "too pure for earthly stay," — to make 
one of that bright band of cherubim which en- 
compasses in glory and in joy the throne of the 
livinor God. 



They only truly mourn the dead, who en- 
deavor so to live as to insure a reunion in 
heaven. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 241 



THE CHANGELING. 

I HAD a little daughter, 

And she was given to me 
To lead me gently backward 

To the Heavenly Father's knee, 
That I, by the force of nature, 

Might in some dim wise divine 
The depth of His infinite patience 

To this wayward soul of mine. 

I knew not how others saw her, 

But to me she was wholly fair, 
And the light of the heaven she came from 

Still lingered and gleamed in her hair ; 
For it was as wavy and golden, 

And as many changes took, 
As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples 

On the yellow bed of a brook. 

To what can I liken her smiling 

Upon me, her kneeling lover ? 
How it leaped from her lips to her eyelids, 

And dimpled her wholly over, 
Till her outstretched hands smiled also, 

And I almost seemed to see 
The very heart of her mother 

Sendinoj sun throuojh her veins to me ! 
21 



242 LITTLE oi^rEs m heaven. 

She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth, 

And it hardly seemed a day, 
When a troop of wandering angels 

Stole my little daughter away ; 
Or perhaps those heavenly Zingari 

But loosed the hampering strings, 
And when they had opened her cage door, 

My little bird used her wings. 

And they have left in her stead a changeling, 

A little angel child, 
That seems like her bud in full blossom, 

And smiles as she never smiled : 
When I wake in the morning, I see it 

Where she always used to lie, 
And I feel as weak as a violet 

Alone 'neath the awful sky. 



As weak, yet as trustful also; 

For the whole year long I see 
All the wonders of faithful nature 

Still worked for the love of me ; 
Winds wander, and dews drip earthward, 

Bain falls, suns rise and set. 
Earth whirls, and all but to prosper 

A poor little violet. 



LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 243 

This cMld is not mine as the first Tvas, 

I cannot sing it to rest, 
I cannot lift it np fatherly 

And bliss it upon my breast ; 
Yet it lies in my little one's cradle, 

And sits in my little one's chair. 
And the hght of the heaven she 's gone to 

Transfigures its golden hair. 



NO BITTER TEARS FOR THEE. 

No bitter tears for thee be shed, 
Blossom of being ! seen and gone ! 

With fiowei-s alone we strew thy bed, 
O, ever dear, departed one ! 

"Whose all of lite, a rosy ray, 

Blushed into dawn, and passed away. 

O ! had'st thou still on earth remained, 

Vision of beauty ! fair as brief! 
How soon thy brightness had been stained 
With passion or with grief! 

Now, not a sullpng breath can rise, 
To dim thy glory in the skies. 



244 LITTLE ONES IN HEAYEN. 



WORDS OF COMFOET. 

* ^ * * And when we couple with this the 
known disposition of our great Forerunner, the 
love that He manifested to children on earth, 
how He suifered them to approach His person, 
and lavishing endearment and kindness upon 
them in the streets of Jerusalem, told His dis- 
ciples, that the presence and company of such 
as these in heaven formed one ingredient of the 
joy that was set before Him ; tell us if Christian- 
ity does not throw a pleasing radiance around 
an infant's tomb ? And should any parent who 
hears us, feel softened by the touching remem- 
brance of a light that twinkled a few short 
months under his roof, and at the end of its 
little period expired, we cannot think that we 
venture too far, when we say, that he has only 
to persevere in the faith, and in the following 
of the gospel, and that very light will again 
shine upon him in heaven. The blossom which 
withered here upon its stalk, has been trans- 
planted there to a place of endurance ; and 
there it will then gladden that eye which now 
weeps out the agony of an affection that has 
been sorely wounded ; and in the name of Him 
who, if on earth, would have -^ept along with 



LITTLE OXES IN HEAYEN. 245 

them, do we bid all believers present, to sorrow 
not even as others which have no hope, but to 
take comfort in the thought of that country 
where there is no sorrow and no separation. 

Chalmers. 



DUTY IN SEASONS OF AFFLICTION. 

Who can saj, even after the severest loss, 
I have no duties, no cares, in life remaining ? 
Much less can a tender mother say it, who has 
still so many looking to her advice, and what is 
almost more, to her example. It is not the 
smallest part of the good that you may do them, 
to let them see what effect great trials have 
upon your mind, and that Christianity enables 
you to bear up against such a stroke. 

Haiskah More, 



SORROW. 

He that lacks time to mourn lacks time to mend. 
Eternity mourns that. 'T is an ill cure 
For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them. 
A\niere sorrow's held instrusive, and turned out. 
There wisdom will not enter, nor true power, 
!Nor aught that dignifies humanity. 

Henky Taylok. 

21* 



246 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 



A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT. 

Leigh Hunt says, " Those who have lost an 
infant, are never, as it were, without an infant 
child. They are the only persons who in one 
sense retain it always, and they furnish other 
parents with the same idea. The other chil- 
dren grow up to manhood and womanhood, 
and suffer all the changes of mortality. This 
one alone is rendered an immortal child." 



A PATHEK'S GKIEE. 

Can anything better express the utter deso- 
lation of a father's heart than the touching, 
heart-rending exclamation of the King of Israel, 
which is engraven upon a tomb in the ceme- 
tery of Pere le Chaise^ near Paris ? 

Mon fils, mon flis ! 
Plut a Dieu quejefusse 
Mort moi-meme pour toi ! 



LITTLE ONES IX HEAYEN. 247 



CUE LITTLE SPOT OF ILAXD. 

We have a little spot of land, 

(I mean my wife and I, 
For we are partners joint on earth, 

Where our possessions lie :) 
Just o'er the village-green 't is found. 

Close by a shady dell, 
W^ere silence reigns — except when death 

Bings out a solemn knell. 

We have no title-deed of land 

Besides this narrow spot ; 
Others can boast their ample farms ; 

We have this little lot ; 
The grass waves sweetly o'er it when 

The summer air is bland ; 
T is worth — 't is worth — we cannot rate 

Our little spot of land. 

We 've read of islets far away, 

Where balmy gales blow free ; 
Fair islets of the earth that lie 

Like emeralds on the sea ; 
But not for these far distant isles. 

By spicy breezes fanned, 
Would we exchange this humble claim — 

Our little spot of land. 



248 LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN. 

There 's Ind beyond the rolling main, 

E,enowned for jewels bright; 
And yet with all her treasures told, 

Her pearls and gems of light, 
Her mines of wealth and sparkling streams 

That roll o'er golden sand, 
She charms us not — when once we view 

Our little spot of land. 

Nay, bring the gold of every clime. 

The wealth of every shore ; 
Let ocean yield her riches up — 

And lay them at our door : 
Then swell the pile a thousand fold 

By some enchanter's wand ; — 
The whole can never buy of us 

Our little spot of land. 

Ah, no ! A dearer treasure this 

To hearts that once have bled, 
Though neither pearls nor rubies lie 

Within its grassy bed ; 
'T is all the land we Ve title to, 

And tliis deep sorrow gave ; 
Our tears have watered it as rain, — 

It is our infant's grave. 

The Happy Home. 



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